What To Expect
by colormetheworld
Summary: Sometimes she wished the detective had come into her life another way. Any other way. Now, she has to admit to herself that the terrible thing that linked them together was also the thing that would keep them apart.
1. One

1.

The woman who takes three bullets for Dr. Maura Isles loses, in reverse order of importance, three days of consciousness, more than a liter of blood, and her unborn child, four days shy of its 12th week.

Pushing herself onto her knees, already reddening with the burn of road rash, Maura swipes her hair out of her eyes and looks around. The woman who'd pushed her roughly to the ground lies where she has fallen, and around her, three dark pools of blood are already starting to spread.

"Oh," Maura says, scrambling back towards the woman. "Oh, Jesus."

She is dimly aware of the sirens growing closer, of faint yelling happening all around her, but she aims the majority of her focus on staunching the blood flow of wound that looks the most dangerous.

"Can you hear me?" she says urgently, watching as the woman's eyes flicker open. "What's your name?"

Why did you do that? What were you thinking?

"Jane," the woman says. "Oh, shit. That bastard shot me. He shot me!"

Maura presses harder on the wound in Jane's side, wondering if she should have focused on the shoulder wound instead. "He wasn't aiming for you," she says. "Lie still. The more you move, the more blood you will lose."

Jane's eyes lock onto Maura's. "Doctor Isles," she says, though lethargy seems to be already taking over. "Did he hit you? Are you hurt?"

"No," she answers automatically, wondering as an afterthought how this woman knows her name. "No, not like you are. Stop talking."

"RIZZOLI!" A young man is sprinting up the narrow street towards them. He's flanked by another man in an officer's uniform and...and he's carrying a gun.

Maura looks down again at Jane, putting the information together. She uses one hand to quickly flip the woman's blazer aside, looking along her belt for what should be there.

Yes, there it is, stained with blood but still perfectly recognizable.

A badge.

"Oh God," she says. "You...you're…" but she doesn't get to finish her sentence.

The men reach her at that moment, followed by paramedics and then finally, the wailing ambulance.

They push Maura aside as they take over, and as they lift her onto the stretcher, the man who had sprinted to them turns to her, pulling off his blazer and offering it to her.

It is only then that she realizes that she is shaking.

"Dr. Isles," the man says gently. "I need you to come with me."

"She just saved my life," Maura says, watching the door of the ambulance swing shut with a bang.

The man nods, looking sympathetic. "I'm Detective Frost," he says. "I'm sorry. I know that this is a shock, but I need to get you somewhere safe."

The last word makes Maura look around at him with wide eyes. "You think the person who did this will try again?"

Frost shakes his head, gesturing up to the window where the bullets must have come from. "No," he says quickly. "No, we got that scumbag, but…" he pauses, and she can tell he's trying to think of an easy way to deliver hard news. She's seen the same look on her residents when they are trying to deliver a poor medical outlook.

"I'm still in danger," she says, more to let him know that she understands than to ask a question.

Detective Frost looks relieved as he nods, and points her towards his unmarked cruiser. "Will you?"

She turns in the direction he's indicated, her hand going automatically to her phone. "I have to call my husband," she says. "He's out of town, but is supposed to get in this evening. I have to call him and tell him I might be-"

Detective Frost's hand closes gently over hers, preventing her from reaching into her purse. "Please hold off," he says, not making direct eye contact. "Until we get to the station."

Maura is suddenly cold. It dawns on her that something must have alerted them that she was in danger. Some connection must have been made.

"Is Garrett alright?" she asks urgently. "Has he been harmed as well?"

A takeover, she thinks. Garrett's company. With both of them out of the way, and Garrett's older brother recently deceased as well…

"Dr. Isles," Detective Frost says firmly. "Please. Let us get back to the station, and then I promise you, all your questions will be answered."

If something has happened to my husband, they would have to tell me, she thinks, but what she says is, "If something has happened to Garrett, I have a right to know."

They have reached the cruiser. Detective Frost steps up and opens the back door for her.

Like a suspect, not a victim. She looks up at him, alarmed. "Please," she says, hearing her voice break. "Please just tell me what is happening."

Frost puts his hand protectively on top of her head as he helps her into the back seat. "You're safe now, Doctor," he says with a kind smile. It serves to reassure her a bit. Surely detectives to not smile at suspects that warmly. "You're safe," he repeats. "Just hang tight for a few more minutes."

Maura is not sure what the phrase "hang tight," might mean, but after five minutes in the back of Detective Frost's police car, she thinks it must be a reference to the way the young man drives.

…

…

Maura stares at the Detective sitting across from her, sure that she has heard wrong. "I'm sorry," she says, shaking her head. "You-you're saying that my husband planned all of this?"

The man, a new detective with grey-white hair who introduced himself as Korsak, nods solemnly. "I know it's a lot to take in right now," he begins, but Maura shakes her head and he falls silent, waiting.

Maura stares at the hard metal table for a long time, trying to organize her thoughts.

"How, ah, how can you be sure?" She finally asks.

Detective Korsak regards her for a long moment. "The man who attempted to kill you earlier this afternoon is a contract killer named Guzman. Mr. Fairfield hired him to kill you and make it look like a stray bullet from a drive-by shooting. Can I ask what you were doing in that part of town, doctor?"

Maura swallows. "I…had an appointment," she says vaguely, knowing immediately that this will not be enough information, and also that what she has to add does not exactly exonerate her husband.

"What kind of appointment?" Detective Korsak asks.

Maura sighs, remembering the text she'd received from Garrett that morning.

I booked you in for a wine tasting at noon today. Here's the address. Our next party is going to be top of the line!

"Dr. Isles?"

"But why would he even do this?" she bursts out. "What could possibly be the reward?"

Korsak flips open a file between them. "Are you aware that your husband stood to inherit his father's company at the end of the month?"

Maura almost laughs at his seriousness. "Of course I am," she says. "We were planning a party in early February to unveil the new plans to move forward."

Korsak's expression doesn't change. "And at the end of the month, Mr. Fairfield became worth nearly six times as much as he had been worth previously?"

Maura shakes her head, still no following. "Of course I know that as well," she says again. "But that's hardly motive to kill me."

Korsak looks up at her. "Dr. Isles, did you file for divorce last Thursday?"

She stares at him. "How could you possibly-"

"We have phone records between Mr. Fairfield and his lawyer, as well as a series of emails."

"You had no right to-"

"He believed that you were filing for divorce, and would demand one half of his newly acquired wealth."

Maura clenches her fists. "Well, that shows how complete your research is," she says coldly. "I am not entitled to any of Garrett's assets, nor is he entitled to mine. We signed a prenuptial agreement. He could have walked away from me, free and clear."

The look that the detective gives her now is softer, more pitying. "There was a clause in that contract, Doctor," he says quietly. "A stipulation that rendered it null and void."

Fury once again rises in the doctor's chest. "Are you insinuating that I cheated?" she says, her voice rising with her rage. "I may have been leaving my husband because I no longer felt a physical attraction towards him, but I respect our marriage vows for what they were at the time. I at least have that bit of decency in me!"

The silence that falls at the end of her outburst is complete. Detective Korsak is looking at her with the same soft look of sadness as before. He doesn't speak.

And all at once it hits Maura like a bolt of lightning.

Garrett was the cheater.

Garrett was afraid that she'd found out and was planning to take all of her money.

Garrett had decided not to approach her about it.

Garrett had chosen to kill her, rather than lose half of his money.

"Oh, my God," Maura says quietly. And now the tears are there, at the corners of her eyes. She presses her fingers against her temples. "Oh, God."

"Dr. Isles," Detective Korsak's voice seems like it's coming from a long way off. "I'm sorry," he's saying. "I'm very-"

"Has he been arrested yet?" she asks though her tears. "Have you arrested him?"

"We have a team meeting his plane. Guzman rolled over on him faster than a lapdog. He's looking at fifteen years. More if-" but Korsak breaks off abruptly, a muscle jumping in his forehead.

Maura frowns. "If what?" she prompts.

Korsak lets out a long breath, looking reluctant. "More," he says, "if the charge is moved from attempted murder, to murder."

And suddenly, Maura is crying again.

Harder.

…

…

She ends up at the hospital.

It is almost six hours later and she has not, in order of importance from least to most, been home, eaten, or showered.

She walks into the Emergency Department at Boston Medical, and the intake nurse at the front desk stands up, looking a little frightened.

"Dr. Isles," she says. "I didn't know you were on call tonight. Is everything okay? Do you have a patient down here?"

Maura stares at her for a beat before realizing that she is in her hospital, and her doctor's ID badge is still clipped to the pocket of her blazer.

She should have started here when she began looking for the detective who saved her life.

"Yes," she says without conscious decision. "I have a patient who was brought in this afternoon with gunshot wounds. I need you to look up where she's been taken."

The young woman sits down and makes few keystrokes. "Certainly, Dr. Isles. What's her name?"

"Rizzoli," she says. She has been saying nothing else for the past several hours. "Jane."

The girl nods. "She came out of surgery an hour ago, and-"

"Who performed it?"

"Uh, Roswell?"

Maura grits her teeth. "Who assisted?"

"Sparks and…Hamilton."

She lets out a breath. That, at least, is better. "And she's where now?"

"The ICU, Dr. Isles. While they wait for her to breathe independently. But-"

Maura does not hear the last words out of the girl's mouth. She is already hurrying towards the elevator, praying that it's Hamilton who remained on call, and not misogynist, egomaniac Roswell.

Luck is on her side. Aisha Hamilton looks up from a clipboard as she comes around the corner, and flashes her a bright smile.

"Maura," she says, sounding genuinely happy to see her. "Wow. Isn't it your night off?" Her smile fades as Maura comes closer and Aisha can see her more clearly.

"You look like you've been through the ringer," she says, lowering her voice. She catches sight of Maura's knees, bruised, and her expression breaks open into serious concern. "What happened?" she asks urgently.

"I-"

But Aisha cuts her off, and gestures that they should step into an empty room. She shuts the door quickly, and Maura feels a surge of affection for her.

"What happened?" Aisha asks her. "Is it Garrett? Are you okay?"

Maura feels the tears returning, and tries to hold them at bay. She is unsuccessful, especially when Aisha takes her hand.

She recounts the day as best she can, trying to ignore Aisha's gasps, and the way she squeezes her hand at particularly difficult parts of the story.

"My patient," she says, putting the pieces together on her own. "Jesus, Maura."

She cups Maura's cheek. "You can cry, if you want to," she says softly.

Maura leans against her hand, reveling in the feeling of comfort. "Please just tell me she's not dying," she says, almost in a whisper. "Tell me she's a young, unmarried, rookie cop, who still has her whole life ahead of her."

Aisha sighs. "She's a detective," she says quietly. "She's been on the force for almost a decade. She's unmarried, but her two younger brothers and mother have been in the waiting room since we brought her up."

"God. She pushed me out of the way."

"She saved your life," Aisha corrects.

"At the cost of her own," Maura retorts immediately. "What is the point in that?"

But the other doctor is shaking her head. "No," she says fiercely. "No, Maura. She pushed you out of the way, knowing that she was going to take at least one bullet."

"That's what I-"

"She's a detective with a decade of experience, and I can tell you that these are not the first bullets she's taken in her career." Aisha puts her hand up to stop Maura's protest again. "She knew where the bullets were coming from and she pushed you out of the way because she knew they would kill you."

And Maura understands. She looks into Aisha's eyes. "Was she right?" she asks. "Were they all through and through?"

Aisha smiles. "Two of them were. The one in her stomach was a bit of a nightmare, but we got it out and we patched her bowel. Roswell might be a pig, but he's a pig with a magic scalpel."

"So she'll wake up," Maura says, feeling like a weight has been lifted off of her chest. "She'll come off the ventilator?"

Aisha nods. "There's no reason to think she won't pull through."

And Maura could hug her. She would, if she could make herself.

Aisha seems to realize, and drops her hands, smiling down at the floor. "You're not what they call you, you know," she says softly. "Not by a long shot."

Maura wipes at the corners of her eyes. "I have to see her family," she says.

Aisha nods. "Only if you promise it's not to punish yourself," she says firmly. "None of this is your fault."

Maura thinks hard about her response. Dr. Hamilton is the first real friend she's ever had. The first person she's truly wanted to pursue any kind of relationship with.

"I'm not doing it to punish myself," she says finally.

And after Dr. Hamilton has checked her neck for hives, she nods and leads her towards the ICU waiting room.


	2. Two

This is how Maura Isles ends up alone, in Jane Rizzoli's apartment.

Though she'd told Dr. Hamilton that she didn't want to meet the Rizzolis as some form of punishment, she can't help but think that this is what she will receive. She follows Aisha into the waiting room, she braces herself for the angry words of three scared family members. She is used to such things in her line of work.

But the Rizzolis stand when the doctors enter, and after Aisha introduces her, the mother steps forward to hug her.

"How terrible," she says tearfully. "You must have been so frightened."

The words hit Maura squarely in the chest, and she almost begins to cry again. The taller of the two brothers, slim and fine featured like his sister, reaches out to pull his mother gently away from Maura.

"C'mon, Ma," he says softly. "Let the woman breathe."

She pulls away, wiping at her eyes with a tissue, and smiles weakly at Maura. "I'm Angela," she says. "This is Tommy," the man who'd pulled her away, "and this is Frankie," a shorter, dark haired man in a police officer's uniform.

Maura opens her mouth to say that it is nice to meet them too.

"I'm so, so sorry," she says, choking up. She puts her hand to her heart, like she could hold back the tears. "I'm so-"

But Frankie steps up now, shaking his head. "Nah," he says easily. "Doc says she's going to pull through, right?" He looks to Aisha who nods reassuringly. "Yeah," he continues, "so there's nothing to be sad about. Jane's been in worse."

Maura allows this information to percolate, trying to think of something worse than being shot three times while trying to defend a stranger.

"This case has been bothering her for weeks," Frankie says, and when she looks up at him in confusion, "Fairfield killed his brother, but she couldn't prove it. She knew he was dangerous but she couldn't get him off the street. She wouldn't have forgiven herself if you'd gotten hurt."

Angela rolls her eyes, launching into an obviously well-worn diatribe that begins with "My Janie has always taken work too seriously. What she should be focusing on is real life…"

But Maura doesn't really hear her. She's stuck on Frankie's revelation, and suddenly she finds that she has to sit down.

She turns and stumbles to the nearest chair, lowering herself into it shakily.

 _Fairfield killed his brother._

It couldn't be true, could it? Maura puts her hands on her knees. She barely registers when Aisha comes to sit beside her.

"You didn't know," she says quietly. "You didn't know that about Garrett."

Maura shakes her head. "How…" she begins, but is unsure of how she would finish the question.

 _How could this have happened?_

 _How could I not have suspected him?_

 _How could I have slept every night, under the same covers as a man who would-_

'Hey," Aisha says quietly. "I can see you spiraling. Stop it. This is not your fault."

Maura looks up into Aisha's kind brown eyes. "You hated Garrett," she says. "Even before you loved me, you hated him. Was it because you saw that he was capable of this?"

Aisha's deep beige skin goes slightly pink with a blush. "Who says I love you?" she asks, elbowing Maura gently to show that this is a joke, and she wonders again why they'd decided not to make a go of it.

"He treated you poorly," Aisha says, looking sour at the thought. "He treated you like you were an idiot. Like you couldn't run circles around him intellectually on any subject in the book."

"And you don't think your jealousy of the situation colored your opinion?" she means it as an honest question, but it makes Aisha laugh.

"No," she says, when she's stopped. "A blind person could see that you deserved better than that mongrel."

Maura is going to respond, when Angela's raised voice catches her attention.

"It's a dog, Frankie! It can stand to be alone a little while longer. I swore to your sister we'd all be here when she woke up."

"She didn't hear you, Ma," Frankie answers, exasperated. "And Jo pees in her bed when she's angry."

"You mean when she's pissed?" Tommy asks, wiggling his eyebrows. This earns him dual glares from his brother and mother.

"I'll be back in half an hour, tops."

"No!" Angela says. "Frankie, I swear if she wakes up and you're not here."

"I don't see what the big deal is," Frankie throws his hands up, shaking his head. "She would want me to go and let her dog out, for Christ's sake."

"Do NOT!" Angela yells, "use the Lord's name in vain."

And Maura hears a voice – no, _her_ voice – saying:

"I could go and walk the dog, if it would make things easier."

...

And that is how she ends up pushing her way into a stranger's apartment at 10:47 on a Thursday night, calling out to the fluffy little dog that bounds off the couch towards her as she steps into the front room.

"Hello, Jo Friday," she says nervously, and the dog stops barking and rolls onto its side to show its belly.

Maura smiles. "Oh, you're not so frightening," she says softly. "I'm here to take you for a walk."

At the magic word, Jo Friday flips upright again and trots to the door, looking back over her shoulder at the doctor expectantly.

Maura's smile widens. "I see you're ready." She opens the closet by the door where Angela had said the leash would be.

It is not there.

Maura steps back from the closet and looks around, the momentary ease she'd felt is fading. "Oh no, Jo Friday," she says. "Where is your leash?"

Jo Friday cocks her head, still standing by the door.

"I can't just take you out without one," Maura says, feeling her palms start to sweat. "And I'm sure you have to relieve yourself."

She is aware of the futility of talking to the dog, but she cannot help asking once more. "Jo, where is your leash?"

Jo Friday wags her tail and runs past Maura to jump onto the couch, brushing a precarious stack of books that topple to the floor with a series of thuds.

Maura bites her lip, moving quickly to the fallen books and dropping to her knees to pick them up. As she does so, she notices the end of Jo Friday's leather leash, poking out from between the couch cushions.

She looks up at the dog. "Don't look so satisfied with yourself," she says grumpily. "That was a coincidence. Nothing more."

She returns her attention to the scattered books, picking them up one at a time, worrying as she stacks them on the table that Jane will notice that they are out of order when she returns. She glances at the titles as she puts them back. Most of them are true crime novels, or paperback mysteries, but the last one is bigger than the others, a pale yellow with bright, cheerful writing.

 _What to Expect When You're Expecting._

Maura stares at it, trying to calm the beating of her heart. Was Jane pregnant? Aisha hadn't mentioned it.

Maura pushes up to sit on the worn couch, still holding the book tightly in one hand.

No. She couldn't have been pregnant. Plenty of people have this book, and it does not automatically mean that they are actively expecting a baby.

But something about this argument feels hollow to Maura. She looks down at the book, and flips it open without thinking.

It opens to a page immediately, the end of a chapter.

 _Week Eleven: How big is my Baby? What can I expect as I move into the Second Trimester? What's Normal? What's not?_

And there, stuck between the pages is a sonogram. Square, and bent at the edges, like someone has been fingering it over and over.

Maura can't stop herself from pulling it out to look at it more closely, and she can no longer convince herself that it doesn't belong to the detective. The miniscule writing in the bottom corner of the photo says: _Rizzoli, Jane C._

Maura feels tears in her eyes. She remembers what Aisha had said about the third bullet in Jane's stomach. There is no way she was able to save this baby, not with such extensive damage.

 _And Aisha didn't tell me._

Fury tempers Maura's grief and she stands, thinking of going back to the hospital and giving the doctor a piece of her mind. Next to her, Jo Friday jumps off the couch too with an excited bark.

Maura had completely forgotten the dog was there. She'd completely forgotten that her sole purpose in the apartment was to look after Jane's pet.

She bends to pull the leash from the couch cushions, and Jo Friday tap dances a happy jig by the door.

"First a walk," she says to the little dog. "And then back to the hospital, to have a word with your mother's Attending."

2.

 _Aisha does not immediately apologize to Maura for keeping the information about Detective Rizzoli's pregnancy from her._

" _What good would it have done, Maura?" She asks, after dragging her back around the corner from the waiting room. "You already felt guilty. You really wanted me to let you torture yourself more?"_

 _Maura shakes her head furiously. "I wouldn't have met her family," she hisses. "Of if I had, I would have apologized more satisfac-"_

" _No," Aisha says firmly. "You wouldn't have. Doctor patient confidentiality states that I can't-"_

 _But Maura cuts across her. "Don't give me that. You've never pulled such a poor excuse with me before. I had a right to know."_

" _No, Doctor, you do not," Aisha says firmly. "If you weren't the woman Detective Rizzoli was protecting, you wouldn't-"_

" _If I wasn't the woman she was protecting, she would still be pregnant!" Maura yells. "This is my fault, no matter how you paint it. And her mother deserves to know how truly sorry I-"_

" _HER MOTHER DOESN'T KNOW!" Aisha bellows, drowning Maura out for the first time in the argument. She waits until she sees the understanding dawning on Maura's face before she continues._

" _Her mother doesn't know, and I'm not sure her brothers do either," she repeats._

 _Maura feels like her knees may buckle. "What?" She asks faintly. "How is that..."_

" _Her partner," Aisha supplies. "He caught me just before I went to surgery. It was very lucky actually. He said she was pregnant, and that her family didn't know."_

 _Maura opens her mouth, can think of nothing to say, and shuts it again. Aisha reaches for her hand, but she pulls away. She doesn't feel like touching anyone, like being touched, just now._

" _What do I do?"_

 _Aisha smiles sadly. "There's nothing you can do," she says._

…

Maura becomes the house sitter.

When she tries to give the key back to Angela Rizzoli, reporting that Jo Friday is doing fine, the other woman refuses to take it.

"She hasn't woken," Angela says tearfully. "She isn't awake yet."

"That's not unusual," Maura says, still holding out the key. "That's not a bad sign at all."

Frankie has come over at her arrival, and he looks at her gratefully. "See, Ma? She's going to be fine. Dr. Roswell is a great surgeon."

Maura nods, "And Dr. Hamilton is one of the best Attendings you could ask for."

Angela seems reassured, and her hand is outstretched for the house key, when she all of a sudden snatches it back.

"Oh, no!" She says, as though Maura has argued. "You can't go home!"

Maura looks down at the key in her hand, confused, wondering if the woman has forgotten that she leant the key in the first place.

"I-" she begins.

"You have nowhere to go!" Angela cries again. A couple who have huddled in the corner of the waiting room give Maura a sympathetic look that makes her cheeks burn.

"I'm sorry?" she says.

"Frankie told me that it was your husband that did this to my Jane," Angela says, her voice still raised.

"A contract killer," Maura corrects, wondering why she still feels the need to protect the man who wants her dead. "My husband…he hired someone."

Angela waves this fact away like a bothersome gnat. "Still," she says. "You can't go home! He might be there."

This hadn't occurred to Maura, though the momentary thrill of panic she feels is immediately eclipsed by the memory of Detective Korsak's statement. "He's been arrested," she says evenly. "I'm in no danger. Thank you," she adds, touched that this woman might think of her well being under the circumstances.

 _What would she think if she knew I was responsible for the death of her grandchild?_

Maura pushes the thought away, swallowing heavily. Luckily, Frankie comes to her rescue at that moment, throwing her an apologetic glance as he takes his mother's arm.

"Ma," he says. "Leave her alone. She's been through enough."

Angela looks reluctant to let the matter rest. "At least keep the key then," she says, stepping back. "You can check up on Jo Friday until Jane can come home."

Frankie rolls his eyes. "Ma. I just said-"

" _And_ ," Angela continues, "You'll have some place safe to go if you need to. I watch cop shows. I know the things that could happen."

Maura blinks at her. "Excuse me?"

Frankie tries to speak again, but Angela puts her hand up. "If they can't keep him, honey. If he gets out on bail or escapes or something. He'll come looking for you! And you'll have somewhere safe to hide because you'll have Janie's key."

" _Ma,_ " Frankie says grumpily, "ordinary life is not like an episode of NCIS. Besides, the BPD will protect Dr Isles if she'd like to-"

"The BPD _is_ protecting her, Frankie," Angela says, in a tone that does not leave room for argument. " _Jane_ is protecting her." She turns back to Maura. "Is that alright, Doctor?"

Maura feels her hand close around the tiny silver key. "I-" she begins again.

"Good," Angela says. "It's settled."

So Maura leaves the hospital for the third time that day, calling her favorite hotel, The Liberty, on her way to her car.

"Dr. Isles," the concierge says after she's requested a room and introduced herself. "We thank you very much for choosing The Liberty. Will you be needing and special accommodations?"

Maura tucks the phone under her chin as she reaches into her coat for her car keys, a thought popping into her head. "I'd like my stay to be open ended," She says, "and yes. I'll be bringing a small dog with me. Under fifteen pounds. Please add whatever additional charge there will be onto my bill."

There is a slight pause on the other end of the phone, and then "Of course, Dr. Isles. Will there be anything else?"

"No," she says. "Thank you."

The phone disconnects, and Maura pulls out of her spot in the hospital's parking garage, plugging in the address of Jane's apartment building just in case she doesn't remember how to get there.


	3. Three

Maura is sitting on a bench, concentrating deeply on the New York Times Crossword puzzle on her lap, when a shadow falls over her, and a deep voice makes her look up, startled.

"Excuse me, Doctor," Jane Rizzoli says. "I believe you've stolen my dog."

Maura jumps to her feet, the newspaper falling to the sidewalk. "Oh!" she says. "Detective!"

Her cry alerts Jo Friday, who has been sniffing around a bush several yards away, and when she sees her new caretaker standing with her old one, she bee lines it for them, tail wagging so hard it is just a blur.

Jane grins, lowering herself slowly onto the bench so that when Jo Friday leaps at her, she can catch her and bring her to face level.

"So you did miss me," she says fondly. "I was wondering. Swanky new digs. Fancy new dog food."

Jane smiles up at Maura over the wiry hair of the dog. "Hello, Dr. Isles," she says.

Maura is still standing, shock fixing her feet to the ground as securely as pitch. "You're…not in the hospital!" she says blankly.

Jane chuckles. "And I'm not in a gown, either, so you know I didn't break out."

Maura blinks again. "But…Aisha told me that you weren't going to be discharged for another four or five days! What are you doing here?"

"Dr. Roswell gave me the go ahead this morning. I got it out of Frost where you were staying."

Maura's hands clench into fists. "Girard Roswell wouldn't know what a healthy discharge was if it bumped into him on the street," She says angrily. "Once his surgery is done, he could not care less about the patient." She reaches for her purse still on the bench, thinking of calling Aisha.

Jane reads the gesture and snaps up the purse before she can reach it, grimacing a little at the movement.

"Doctor," she says quickly, "No! Hey! Doctor! I'm fine. I swear I'm fine."

"Seventeen days is hardly enough time for sufficient healing," Maura says, trying to figure out how to retrieve her bag without causing the detective more harm. "Give me that, please."

"I'm healed enough to be discharged," Jane argues, though the corners of her mouth are tugging upwards. "No strenuous activity for another four weeks. Physical therapy," She shrugs. "But my own bed! No more hospital food."

Maura crosses her arms, letting out a breath. She looks around, realizing something. "You don't have a walker?"

Jane's grin widens. "You don't miss a trick, do you?" she asks, but when Maura stares at her she puts up a hand in surrender. "I bargained down for a cane, _which_ ," she says reading the doctor's expression, "I may have just accidentally left in Frost's car."

"Detective," Maura says. "You must realize how dangerous-"

"Jane," the other woman says, still peering good naturedly up into her face. "You stole my dog, you can call me by my first name."

"I did not!" Maura says indignantly.

Jane chuckles again. " _And_ ," she continues, "to be fair, you didn't visit me once in the hospital." Her smile fades just slightly, revealing the possibility of a deeper emotion. "So you don't get to really comment on my healing, Doctor."

Maura feels herself blush crimson. So, she knows.

"Yeah," Jane says, as though she can read her thoughts. "Ma says it's because you're scared I'll yell at you."

Maura shakes her head. "I'm-no. I'm not frightened of you."

"I know," Jane says, and Maura watches her lower Jo Friday slowly back to the ground. "But you shouldn't feel guilty either."

Maura stares at her. _Does she know I know about the baby?_

"I didn't think you'd want to see me," she says finally. "I thought you'd resent me. I took-" she catches herself, watching the subtle tensing of the brunette's shoulders. "I-I almost took your life," she amends.

Jane exhales. "You aren't the first," she says easily, "and you won't be the last."

Maura looks away, trying to hide the twinge of pain that this statement has caused her, but Jane notices anyway.

"Hey," she says, softer. "Sit down."

Maura sits down next to Jane. "I wish you would have stayed in the hospital until Dr. Hamilton let you go."

"I hate hospitals," Jane says, her voice is still quiet, and Maura can feel her eyes on the side of her face, watching her closely. "And…I wanted to make sure you were getting along okay." she raises an eyebrow when Maura looks around at her, surprised. "I read in the paper that Fairfield was denied bail last Tuesday. I saw that interview his mother gave on channel six." she rolls her eyes, and makes her voice high and nasal for an imitation. "Oh my son is such a good and caring person. I don't believe for a second that he could do something like this."

Maura smiles, but it fades under Jane's intense stare.

"I'm sorry," she says, unsure of what her apology should be fore. "I'm fine," she amends, looking down into her lap.

It is true. She will make it so.

Jane is silent for a long moment, and then she leans back slowly, nodding.

"Yeah, okay," she says quietly. "Me too, then."

They sit in silence, side by side, and Maura tries to find a way to bring up Jane's pregnancy. She begins several sentences in her head, but they all sound too stilted or too nosy.

"I-" Maura turns to Jane, determined that she should apologize directly for what she has done, and realizes that the brunette is statue still with pain, her face devoid of color.

"Oh!" she says quickly, reaching out to put a hand on Jane's shoulder. "I knew you should not have been discharged so early."

"I'm okay," Jane says through gritted teeth. "It's the bullet I took in the stomach. I didn't expect that asshole to shoot three times. I thought-" she breaks off abruptly, closing her eyes. "It hurts," she admits, almost an octave lower.

Maura uses her other hand to press Jane gently backwards. "Breathe," she orders. "Keep breathing. Holding your breath intensifies the feeling of pain, as your brain compensates for lack of respiratory function."

Jane cracks an eye to look at her. "Wha-?" she pants. She's breathing shallowly, trying to do as Maura says.

"I'm sorry," Maura says, slowing her own breathing, as though Jane simply doesn't know how, and needs an example.

Jane shakes her head, but is unable to really speak for several more minutes.

When the wave of pain has ebbed, she turns her head to look fully at Maura. "You apologize a lot," she says. "Did you know that?"

Maura bites back her first answer, which begins with an apology, and Jane grins like she knows what was about to happen.

"I do feel guilty," Maura bursts out. "For hurting you so badly. For being the one responsible for your injuries."

Jane is shaking her head as vigorously as her hurt side will let her. "No," she says firmly. "That's why I wanted to come see you. I knew when you didn't show up at the hospital that you felt like this."

 _Now_ , Maura thinks. _Tell her now. Tell her you know she was pregnant. Tell her your guilt is for two lives, and not just one._

"But…I swore an oath to protect people who couldn't, or didn't know they had to protect themselves," she waves away Maura's interruption. "I did. It's the same as your oath as a doctor. I understood what I was saying when I made that promise."

For a moment, Jane looks supremely, enormously sad. "Or, if I didn't then, I do now."

 _Tell. Her. Now._

"Can I drive you home?" Maura asks. "I'm assuming that you let Detective Frost drive off with your cane." She glances at Jane. " _Accidentally_ , of course," she adds.

And whatever despair there was gripping the detective vanishes as she laughs.

Maura allows herself to believe it is genuine.

"Okay, Doctor," she says good-naturedly. She pushes herself to her feet slowly, and lets out a sharp little whistle for Jo Friday.

 _In the car,_ Maura thinks. _Where there is more privacy._

She cannot bring herself to do it.

…

…

Maura is invited to Rizzoli Sunday Dinner. Jane arrives at their normal meeting spot in the park on a sunny Friday afternoon to deliver the invitation, and Maura looks up at her from where she has bent to scratch behind Jo Friday's ears.

"Sunday Dinner?" she asks, feeling nerves prickle her hairline. "With your entire family?"

Jane gives her a dark look. "You can say no," she says, "and save yourself. But I should warn you, there's an eighty percent chance that then my Ma will show up at your condo with leftovers. And once she invites herself in, you can kiss your evening good-bye."

Maura straightens, taking her time with her answer, not because she doesn't want to attend, but because it catches her off guard every time this family acts as though she is a part of it.

It has been three months and change since Jane took a nearly fatal bullet to the stomach while saving Maura's life.

Garrett Fairfield's trial is scheduled, and Maura has moved out of the Liberty Hotel and into a condominium on Charles Street. At first, Jane when Jane came by to see her, she always brought Jo Friday, claiming the dog missed "the high life." But as the weeks wore on, and it became clear that Maura would not turn her away, that in fact she wholeheartedly welcomed her visits, Jane started showing up more often. And alone.

She sees Jane at least three times a week now, usually to walk in the park or grab lunch downtown. Once for an ill-fated yoga class Much to Maura's surprise, they have become friends.

Maura continues to keep her knowledge of Jane's pregnancy a secret. It begins to feel less like a betrayal and more like a necessary evil.

 _This is what I have to do to keep Jane in my life. This is what we need._

Because Jane does seem to _need_ it.

"Maura?" Jane is staring at her, hands on her hips.

"Sorry, I was just thinking."

"About coming to Rizzoli Sunday?"

Maura pulls her hair back into a ponytail, and looks down, double checking her laces. "The name suggests that one must be a Rizzoli in order to attend," she says, falling into step next to Jane as they begin down the path.

"Nah," Jane says, picking up the pace in what she clearly thinks is a subtle manner. "It's just only Rizzolis who would be crazy enough to come. Seriously, Maura, if you don't want to-"

Maura puts her arm on Jane's bicep, holding her back a little. "I would like to come very much," she says. "And Dr. Hamilton said no running until next Thursday."

This earns her a sidelong glare and a disgruntled huff. Maura bites back a smile.

"I feel perfectly okay," Jane says, her tone just this side of a whine. "Good enough to even think about recertifying."

Maura deliberately slows her pace, and is charmed when Jane slows too. "You'll be back on the force before you know it," she says. "For now, just enjoy your time off, and be grateful that it's not Roswell signing off on your disability inquiries."

Jane chuckles. "Yeah," she concedes. "Okay."

They walk in silence for a little while, each lost in her own thoughts, until Jane bumps Maura gently with her shoulder and says, quietly, "they scheduled Fairfield's trial yesterday. Cavenaugh told me."

Maura feels the familiar tightening in her chest that always happens when one of the Rizzolis mentions her soon to be ex-husband. "I'm aware," she says shortly.

Jane frowns. "Are you going to be there?"

"Beyond my testimony, I don't see why my attendance would be necessary."

Jane gives her a sideways look that she can't read. "Closure," she says a moment later. "Something like that."

"I'm not sure I need closure." She glances over at Jane, at the little beads of perspiration that have collected on her brow. "Are you going?"

"Yeah," Jane says. Her face flickers like the blinds on a window. Maura has seen it happen before, when her partner or her mother get too close to something that hurts.

"For closure?" Maura asks carefully.

Jane opens her mouth, closes it, and then opens it again. "Yeah," is all she says.

Both Jane and Aisha have tried to get Maura to attend therapy. She resisted them both, on the grounds that she was no longer in love with Garrett, and therefore his betrayal meant nothing. Jane had even gone so far as to confide that _she_ was seeing a therapist. Maura knew Jane well enough by then to know that this confession meant a great deal.

So she doesn't press her now. She changes the subject.

"You're breathing much less heavily than you were on even this past Monday, Jane," she says, chancing a touch to the brunette's bicep.

Jane relaxes, looking at her with a mixture of gratefulness and pride that makes Maura's chest expand with affection.

"You're going to be a detective again before you know it," she says softly.

And that is when Jane reaches out and takes her hand.

It is so surprising, so utterly unpredicted, that Maura stops walking abruptly, and their hands break apart.

Jane turns back to look at her, eyes wider than normal. "Sorry," she says quickly, voice a little wobbly. "I mean…well, shit. Did I read that wrong?"

"I…" Maura does not know what to say. Her brain, usually packed full of information and analyzations has been emptied out completely by the feeling of Jane's fingers in hers.

"No," she says finally, because the other woman looks like her lip might start quivering. "No, you didn't read anything wrong. I'm sorry. I was just startled."

Now that her thoughts are catching up to the situation, she has nothing but questions.

This woman is nothing but mysteries, and Maura seems only to get tangled more deeply, more the more time they spend together.

Jane moves back to her slowly, dark eyes on her face. "Are you…" Jane seems to struggle. "I'm…sorry," she finally says. She looks a little miserable. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"There's no reason to apologize," Maura says quickly. "I am not upset or uncomfortable."

 _I am confused,_ she thinks, but there is no way to express this confusion without bringing up the one thing she has thus far been unable to bring up.

Jane nods at the ground, clearly unconvinced. "So…do you want to keep walking?"

"Yes," Maura says, hoping her voice sounds warm. "Please."

They walk on. Jane is not looking at her, nor does she reach her hand out again, and so after a full three minutes of silence (in which Maura mentally calculates the likelihood that she is about to lose the second real friend she's ever had), Maura reaches out and takes Jane's hand in hers.

"Do you want to hear what I was reading about before you arrived?" she asks quietly.

This time, when Jane nods at the sidewalk, she is also smiling.


	4. Four

Maura has been in the presence of the entire Rizzoli family only two other times. Once, when they all gathered to celebrate Frankie Jr.'s birthday, and another time, by accident, when they all arrived at the Dirty Robber within an hour of each other.

The doctor is awed and intimidated by the loud, aggressive, and easy way the Rizzolis interact. She is touched by Jane's genuine desire to have her company, and moved even more by the family's immediate acceptance of as they pull up to the little house on Sunday night, Maura feels more nervous than she has since before she met Garrett.

She is attracted to Jane. She has been since their first dinner together, when they ate takeout out of the container and sat on the mattress left in the middle of her living room by the movers. Maura laughed more during those three hours than she could ever remember doing with anyone else.

Until the hand holding, she had not allowed herself to imagine a world where the detective could ever return her affection. Jane Rizzoli was a straight woman expecting a child.

And while the bullet may have changed a significant part of that equation, what it did not change was Jane's sexual orientation.

They have become close that is all. Maura smooths her skirt, and then folds her hands in her lap. She is responsible for the injury that kept Jane away from work. She is responsible for the look that Jane gets on her face whenever her mother brings up grandchildren.  
They have become close, and it is more than Maura could ever have dreamed of. She will be content with that.

As Jane parks the car, Maura focuses on their incompatibility. She does not have to reinforce the conviction by mentally cataloguing all of the other reasons that she is inadequate besides her gender.

She does not allow herself to contemplate the idea that this imaginary list of shortcomings would not work in this situation, because all of the things she finds fault with… Jane seems to accept without question.

"So…you ready?" Jane's voice breaks through her thoughts, and she looks around to see that Jane has turned off the ignition and that they are just sitting in the car outside the house.

"Oh!" she feels her cheeks get warm. "I'm so-" she catches the apology halfway out of her mouth, and then laughs as Jane pumps her fist.

"Yes!" she cries. "One for me!"

"That doesn't count," Maura says, still grinning. "I did not verbalize the whole thing. It does not count."

Jane shoots her a look. "Half a pint then," she says.

Maura puts her hands up in concession.

They have come to the agreement that if Maura would stop apologizing for what Jane called "things that did not remotely require an apology," then Jane would work on curtailing her swearing.

Whenever one of them slipped up, it was added to the tally of drinks she owed the other. Jane's drink of choice was Sierra Nevada Pale Ale.

Maura usually opted for a Riesling. Dry.

Thus far, Jane had purchased Maura fourteen separate drinks, and she still had yet to clinch a third beer.

"Maybe one day, you will tell me some of the things you think so hard about," Jane says casually.

"It's nothing," Maura says, though the words make her face feel even warmer.

Jane grins, Popping the door of her car open. "Well, when you want to talk about nothing out loud, I'll be around to listen."

It takes Maura a few startled seconds in the car to process Jane's words, and then she opens her own door and hurries up the walk after the detective.

"What's the saying?" Jane murmurs as she knocks firmly on the door before pushing it open.

"Batten down the hatches?"

Maura chuckles. "You're being overdramatic," she says.

Jane shoots her a dark look, gesturing that Maura should hand her coat over. "Judge for yourself."

…

…

Jane is not being overdramatic. It seems that on their own, familiar territory, the Rizzolis become louder, and more boisterous, finally feeling free enough to be themselves.

When they enter the kitchen, Frankie and Tommy are in the middle of a fierce debate over something called the WWE, voices rising and rising and rising, until Frank Senior shouts them both down with his own opinion, stated as fact.

Maura feels Jane's hand press briefly in the small of her back, guiding her to a stool pulled up to the counter.

She has not been seated more than a couple of seconds, when Angela tilts a wooden spoon in her direction. "Taste this," she says.

It is not phrased as a question, and so Maura accepts the spoon into her mouth, feeling ridiculous until she registers the taste.

"That is...phenomenal."

Angela looks smug and pleased. "Phenomenal," she repeats, looking at each of her children in turn. "Hear that? I'm phenomenal. Have her over more often, Jane."

Jane snorts, and shoots Maura a dark look that fades into a chuckle at Maura's wide eyes. "Sure, Ma," she says. "If I'm off the hook then."

Angela laughs, and hands Maura a piece of bread dipped in the sauce from the spoon, and Maura feels like she could belong. Right there in the kitchen with all of them.

They sit down to eat, and - contradictory to Maura's assumption - the volume of the family rises. She observes it all, wide eyed. They are as close as a family can be, and though Jane might complain about them all, there is no doubt that she also loves them as fiercely as is humanly possible.

What a wonderful, warm little life her child might have had.

.

"Maura?" Angela Rizzoli has been talking to her.

"I'm sorry," Maura says, smiling across the table at Jane's mother. "I got a little caught up in my thoughts. Did you ask me a question?"

"I just asked how you deal with it every day," Angela says. "All the death and injuries and pain that come through the door. I go crazy every time I know that Jane or Frankie are in danger. I don't know how you look it in the eye every day and manage to keep your head."

Maura blinks, digesting this little speech one word at a time. "Well," she says slowly. "My job is quite different from your children's. I am not the one in actual danger."

"But all the death," Angela presses, and there is definite fascination in her face, alongside the concern.

"It's not just about death," Maura replies quickly, because Jane has tensed in the seat next to her. "There are many beautiful things too." She looks around at them all, to see if they understand, and realizes that the family as fallen silent, ostensibly waiting for her to continue.

"For example, births are always very joyous occasions. The moment when a patient wakes up and is surrounded by loved ones." She pauses, trying to think. "Oh! yesterday, I had a patient who had been to seven different doctors. They all told her she was perfectly fine. She wasn't, and I was able to correctly diagnose her. Even though that was not entirely good news, the relief she felt at not being deemed crazy, was definitely a positive."

She glances around at them all. If the confused and bored looks on Tommy and Frank Senior's faces are a bit disappointing, the feeling is totally eclipsed by the way Jane is looking at her.

She blushes.

"It's rewarding," she says. "I imagine it's not dissimilar to your job, Jane," she says. "Trying, and difficult, and extremely rewarding."

Jane nods, though she looks like she hasn't really heard. Angela says something, and the conversation picks up around them, but Maura lets herself tune out, basking in the glow of Jane's undivided attention for a couple more minutes.

They manage to make it to dessert without the mention of children.

Angela is relentless. Maura thinks she wants grandchildren so badly, that it clouds her judgement and her ability to read the facial expressions of her children.

When they finally escape to the front porch, Jane's face is a thunderhead of disgruntled frustration.

She holds the door to the car open for Maura, and then goes around, sliding herself behind the steering wheel with a long sigh.

They haven't touched since Friday, and Maura stares at Jane's profile, trying to work up the nerve to put her hand on her knee. She'd wanted to stick up for Jane back at the house. She'd wanted to tell Angela that Jane had sacrificed happiness and peace for Maura's life, and that she would spend the rest of it trying to make it up. To both of them.

But she had stayed as silent as Jane had through the entire mini-tirade, and it was Frankie who finally told Angela to give it a rest.

"My parents freaked out when I told them I was going to be a cop," Jane says suddenly, eyes still on the road.

Maura looks at her profile, trying to think of a response.

"My Pop is really old school, and he thinks like, women stay home and take care of the kids, you know?"

Maura nods. "My parents wanted a different career path for me, as well." She says quietly.

"Yeah? What's better than doctor? Astronaut?"

Maura smiles. "My mother wanted me to go into politics. Or, I should say, she wanted me to marry someone who was going into politics. She's a bit old school, like your father. _My_ father thought I should put my knowledge of science to a more…investigatory use."

Jane frowns. "Like…"

"Research," Maura supplies. "They are…not pleased with this latest development."

Jane turns to look at her. "What, that you almost died?" she says obstinately. She knows that isn't want Maura means. "That your husband almost killed you?"

Maura sighs. She doesn't know what to do with the emotions that this woman stirs inside of her. They are new, and dangerous, and so loud that she can't ignore them.

There has never been someone in her life that demands attention the way Jane does.

She reaches out and puts her hand on Jane's knee. They have turned onto Maura's street, and so if this contact is unwanted, she will only have to endure the rejection for thirty seconds.

But Jane covers Maura's hand with her own, and when they pull to a stop in front of the Condo Complex, Maura doesn't want to get out.

"The trial starts tomorrow," Jane says, looking out of the driver's side window like there is something around them besides darkness and unspoken words.

"Yes. My lawyer doesn't expect that I'll be called this week though."

Jane nods. "Mine says it will probably be Tuesday or Wednesday for me."

Silence. Jane takes her hand away from Maura's to run it through her hair. She looks nervous, and Maura doesn't know what she's done, but she doesn't want the emotion to continue.

She reaches for the door handle. "Thank you," she murmurs. "For tonight. It was lovely."

She gets out of the car, surprised when Jane is there beside her.

"I thought," Jane looks away from her face. "I'd walk you…?" her sentence ends as a tentative question, and Maura couldn't stop her smile even if she wanted too.

"So chivalrous," she says lightly, and Jane chuckles and holds out her arm for Maura to take.

"I just wanted to, uh, tell you that…" She trails off, a blush creeping up her neck.

Maura wants to touch her cheeks.

Her hair.

"Jane?"

The brunette shakes herself. "Sorry." She redoubles her effort. "I wanted you to come tonight because I wanted you to know that you have people." She looks at Maura, whose lack of understanding must show on her face, because she continues. "My Ma, and Frankie...Tommy for what that's worth...me."

 _Tell her._

"We're - uhm - here for you. Through all of this. Okay?"

Maura looks up at the clear night sky, trying to forestall the tears that this declaration has caused. How is it possible to feel so deeply for this woman, so quickly.

Surely it is only the high emotions of their circumstances.

Surely it is only her guilt that makes her want to take Jane around the waist and press their bodies together.

"Maura?"

They are at her front door. "Yes," she says, too thickly but not shakily, thank God. "I mean, thank you, detective. That means a great deal to me."

Jane pulls from her as though slapped, and Maura has heard it too. The stilted, distanced way she has responded.

Jane nods. "Okay," she says with an attempt at a grin. "So I'll see you Tuesday?"

Maura nods, not trusting anything that comes out of her mouth, and after another look, Jane turns and jogs back to her car.

"No running yet," Maura calls after her.

Jane doesn't hear her.

…

…

Aisha thinks she should simply go for it. She drops by Maura's office to tell her that a certain detective has been discharged from the outpatient physical therapy program and watches with ill disguised glee as Maura tries to manage the flood of emotions this news causes.

"That means she's free to recertify," Maura says.

"Yep," Aisha answers with a wide smile. "She seemed about as happy about it as you are miserable."

"I am not-"

"Don't lie. I don't have time to revive you."

Maura sets her mouth in a straight line, watching as Aisha sits down on the rolling stool in front of her desk. "Maura. You've got to tell her how you feel."

"No," Maura says. "I certainly do not."

"Yes you do. How else will you know she doesn't feel the same way?"

This is an argument they've been having for close to two weeks, and Maura can recite both of their parts by heart.

"She's straight, Aisha."

"You don't know that, because you haven't asked her out."

"She was pregnant."

This argument, never fails to make the other doctor glare at her. "We both know that a child does not a straight woman make," she says pointedly. "And I'm getting kind of offended that you keep bringing that up."

Maura bites her lip. "You're not a lesbian," she says, though as soon as it's out of her mouth, she sees the trap that Aisha had just laid for her. "And don't you dare tell me she might be bisexual."

To her surprise, and relief, Aisha laughs. "Right," she says. "Because it's only me and that RN Marta in Boston. I forgot."

Maura smiles despite herself. This is one of the things she likes about her relationship with Aisha. The woman just rolls with things. "I don't mean to invalidate Jesse, you know that, right?" She has to ask, just to be sure.

The other woman nods. Aisha's son is seven, the product of what Aisha calls her "happiest accident ever."

"I know," she says. "But Maura, at this point, you are running out of reasons not to try. You were leaving Garrett because you wanted to date women right? So date them!"

Maura shakes her head. "Not her," she says, aware of the shake in her voice. "I can't date her. I can't..." she doesn't finish. There is a sudden lump in her throat.

And Aisha senses this shift from banter to seriousness, and she rolls the stool around to the side of Maura's desk. "Darling," she says gently, "If she was expecting that baby with a man, or even another woman," Aisha holds up her hand to stop Maura's interruption, "then where is he or she? Hmm? Isn't it possible she had her own happy accident?"

"I-"

"And she held your hand in the park last week! She walked you to the door of your condo! Those things are not nothing."

Maura closes her eyes. "It doesn't matter," she murmurs. "If she finds out that I know...That I've known this entire time, and didn't…" She slides a hand to her temple, trying to ward off the sinking feeling she gets every time she imagines that particular scenario. "God. She'd think I was a monster."

 _I am a monster._

"Or a woman afraid of being blamed for something she had no control over," Aisha suggests. "Look, Maura, I've spent almost as much time with her as you have. I would call her fierce and brave. Loyal, funny and sarcastic, just like you. But the kindness? The sweet and gentle side that you tell me about? I don't see that. That's her with _you_. That means something."

She reaches out to take Maura's hand.

"You hold my hand," Maura says. "And you're not in love with me."

Aisha smiles mischievously. "Oh no?" she teases, squeezing Maura's hand when she simply looks her confusion. "Maybe I just know we're good as friends," she says. "Maybe I just know we need each other...as friends."

Maura squeezes back. She thinks it is probably true. She doesn't know where she would be without Dr. Hamilton and the firm, loving way she had pushed her into standing up for herself.

She is going to say as much when her phone pings.

"Three en route," she says, standing. "Are you on?"

"Nope, got off twenty minutes ago." Aisha stands too. "Maura. Tell her." She takes Maura's face in her hands. "If she reacts badly...if you lose her? I promise to be there to pick up the pieces."

Dr. Hamilton has the decency to look away while Maura attends to the tears in the corner of her eyes.

"That's enough now," she says, when Maura has composed herself. "Get going."

"I'll call you tonight," Maura says. "If I work up the courage to talk to her."

Aisha waves over her shoulder, heading toward the exit. "If you work up the courage to talk to her," she replies, "call me in the _morning_."


	5. Five

Maura comes home after her shift to find Jane on her stoop, pizza box on her lap, six pack next to her on the second step.

"Jane!" she says, her knees a little wobbly. "A surprise!"

"A good one?" Jane stands, pulling up the lid on the pizza to show her half mushroom, half pepperoni."

"Always when it's you," Maura laughs. "Though the pizza doesn't hurt. Come in."

She will have to get her detective an extra key, she thinks idly. Her phone buzzes as she pushes into the front hall, and she pulls it out, praying it's not the hospital.

It is Aisha. _**You are a catch. Tell her how you feel.**_

"Is it work?" Jane asks from behind her, and Maura turns to see she looks disappointed.

"No," she says. "Just Aisha. Dr. Hamilton? She was just checking on me."

Jane nods, and doesn't ask anything more. She has a hook by the door for her coat, and a place where her boots usually go.

She has a spot on the couch that is hers.

Maura thinks the condo feels more like home than any other place ever has. And it is because of this woman, who is currently squinting at the medical book on her coffee table, grimacing comically at the graphic picture.

"I can't imagine seeing stuff like this every day," she says.

Maura smiles, heading past her to the kitchen for a drink. "And I can't imagine seeing the things a detective sees every day," she counters. "So we're even."

She is aware of Jane's eyes on her. It is the first day of Garrett's trial, and though neither woman has been called today, Maura can feel the knowledge around both of them, like a weight."

"When did you know you wanted to be a doctor," Jane asks suddenly.

"Oh, I think I've always known that I wanted to be a doctor," Maura answers automatically. She expects Jane to respond with her own story of becoming a detective, but when there is only silence, she turns looks up.

Jane is sitting on the couch cross-legged, and by the expression on her face, she clearly wants more.

"That's it?" she asks with a little laugh. "I ask you when you knew you wanted to be an ER surgeon, and you answer as though I'm interviewing you for the world's most boring magazine."

Maura looks down at the drink in her hands. "I'm sorry," she says before she can stop herself. And then, waving away Jane's whoop of celebration, "I'm not sure what else I'm supposed to say."

Jane curls a finger at her, and then waits until Maura has situated herself on the couch as well.

"You're not supposed to say anything, Maura. I'm not the Atlantic Monthly." She grins at Maura's surprised expression. "Yes, I read the article you wrote for it last month. You thought I wouldn't? I can read big words, even if I don't understand them."

Maura is too charmed to say anything for a moment. "You're very bright, Jane," she manages finally. "You sell yourself short."

"You do too," Jane says immediately. "And you shouldn't. I'm really asking. I want to know when you knew you wanted to be a surgeon. An ER surgeon."

Maura smiles down into her lap. "I'm not sure…" she pauses. "No, I do. I am. I do know." She looks up at Jane to make sure that the other woman really does want to hear what she is about to say. Jane is looking at her, eyebrows raised expectantly.

"When I was about nine, I found a dog that had been hit by a car on a side street in my neighborhood. I was alone a lot, and my family moved fairly often, so to keep myself busy, I would spend the days during the summer making maps of my new surroundings."

She glances up to see confusion flash across Jane's face. "I…I'd walk all of the streets within a square mile of my house," Maura explains hesitantly, "And then I would draw maps of everything that was there." She shrugs slightly. "It was a way to keep myself occupied."

"That's…really cool," Jane says earnestly. Maura can't help but believe that she means it. "Your parents didn't care that you were so far from home as a little kid?"

Maura blinks. She is trying to think of a politically correct way to answer, when Jane's hand on her knee makes her look up.

"Just say it, Maura."

"My parents were not especially watchful," she says, amazed at the relief she feels at being able to finally say the words. "They loved me. I never doubted that. But they…seemed unsure of how to interact with me as a child. They wanted me to be an adult immediately. So…I tried."

Jane's fingers squeeze her knee gently, and they sit for a little bit, not talking.

"So…you found a dog?" Jane prompts when the silence stretches.

"Ah," Maura nods, refocusing. "Yes. This was in Connecticut. We moved there at the beginning of the Summer, and the children in the neighborhood would invite me to play games with them, and then they would all run off and hide. I spent several days just wandering around, looking for them, before I figured it out."

Talking like this to Jane is bringing the past to life in an alarming way, and Maura tries to focus only on the pressure of Jane's hand on her knee, reminding herself that she is not that girl anymore.

"I found the dog on a side street. He'd dragged himself off to the side, out of the way. Like he knew that he couldn't stay where he was. His whole back leg was this one big bloody, gnarled mess. I knew that if I left him there, he'd die for sure.

"And I knelt down beside him, and I was petting his head, and telling him how sorry I was. I gave him the name Elion…She was the Biochemist who'd just won the Nobel Prize…" Maura drifts off, thinking. She can remember the way the dog's fur had felt under her hands. He hadn't cried, or tried to move away from her.

"He looked at me with these _eyes_ ," she says softly. "And…I just picked him up and brought him home. I couldn't leave him there."

Jane's hand suddenly disappears from her knee, and she looks around, startled, ready to apologize for getting so lost inside her memories.

But Jane is just readjusting. She shifts closer to Maura, and sets her beer onto the coffee table absently, so it sits lopsidedly on the coaster. "Did he make it?" she asks eagerly. "Did you take him to the vet?"

Maura swallows past a sudden tightness in her throat. "He made it. But, ah, no. I didn't take him to the vet."

"Why?" Jane asks, though there is no anger in her voice. Just curiosity.

It makes Maura brave. "My parents were, my father specifically. He was not always a very nice person."

Jane's face darkens, and Maura rushes on. "He expected his rules to be followed, I mean, and he did not have any trouble enforcing them. He said no pets." Maura swallows. "I remember being nine, thinking there was no way I could ask to bring him to the vet. I remember thinking, specifically, that there was no way I could involve anyone else."

Jane nods. It doesn't look like she's even breathing. Her eyes are fixed on Maura's face intently.

"So…I brought him home, and put him in the bathtub. I wrapped him up tight in an old bedsheet, and then I went into my father's study and read...God, I read and re-read all the books I could find about any type of surgery or medicine. I spent all night reading, and then…the next morning I went back into the bathroom…and I sewed and set Elion's leg."

"No way!" Jane interjects. She is fully enthralled, completely engrossed.

Maura finds herself nodding energetically. "Yes. Well, I fed him several of my mother's strongest pain killers, and some chicken and peanut butter. Then I went out to the garage and stole some of my father's tools. Borrowed. I thought if I did it myself…I couldn't just let him die."

"Maura…" Jane seems a little lost for words. "That is the most…amazing…badass thing I've ever heard. You were ten?"

"Nine," Maura says. "Well, I would turn ten in six months."

Jane is staring at her. "Holy shit," she says. "Now I wish I were a reporter. That's the best 'why I became a surgeon' story ever."

Maura takes a deep breath. "That's not why I became a surgeon," she says quietly. She looks up at Jane, expecting frustration, and sees only anticipation.

"It was the way he looked at me. When he woke up, I fed him, and he looked at me while I put little pieces of hamburger into his mouth. Like…" Maura tries to think of a way to properly verbalize the feeling.

Jane waits silently.

"It was like he didn't know me. But he knew that I could save him. I had hurt him, but I'd saved him. And so that was okay.

"It was that look that made me want to be a doctor. It was the first time that anyone – that anything had ever looked at me like-" But she breaks off abruptly, several new thoughts tumbling into her head all at once.

"Hey," Jane's voice is soft, very close to her. Maura realizes she has closed her eyes.

Tears are leaking down her cheeks anyway.

"Hey."

"I'm so… _stupid_ ," she says. It's all she can get out before the gentle hands on her face make her cry in earnest. "Don't," she murmurs, "I don't deser-"

"Stop," Jane says firmly. "Of course you do."

"He looked at me," she says between her tears. She is talking about Garrett now, but she can't make herself say his name. "He looked at me, and he was the first person in the entire world who'd ever…desired me."

She feels her cheeks get warm at the word. Jane's thumbs are stroking along her cheekbones slowly.

"I didn't…It seemed like the right thing to do, so I did it. It pleased my mother, that he was so wealthy and well known. It felt good, on the surface to have her approval."

"Yes," Jane says, like she understands.

"But after the first year, I knew I didn't love him." She can't stop speaking now. Not when she is being met with such amazing kindness.

"It's okay," Jane whispers. She moves closer and her arms wrap around Maura's waist. "It's okay to cry."

And so Maura does. She presses herself against Jane, and she cries until she feels wrung out. Until it doesn't feel so hard to take a deep breath.

"I don't love him," She cries into her shoulder. "I couldn't. I was leaving him. Why does it feel like this?"

"Because he hurt you," Jane says simply. "And all you ever did was try."

Maura nods, shutting her eyes against the tears threatening to start again. "All there was is hurt. I wanted to become a surgeon. An ER surgeon so that I could do something about all the insurmountable pain."

Jane doesn't let her go.

It is heavenly, just sitting in her arms. Maura shifts slightly to make herself more comfortable, and she is pleased and terrified when Jane does not take her movement to be rejection.

"I…like women," she whispers, squeezing her eyes tightly.

Jane nods above her. "Okay."

Can she feel the way Maura's heart is beating harder than it ever has? "I was leaving Garrett, because…I discovered I was – am – attracted to women."

"Okay," the same soft whisper near the back of her neck.

 _Be. Brave.  
_  
Maura turns to face Jane. "I'm attracted to y-"

But Jane's lips are on hers before she can finish the remainder of her sentence.

They kiss and kiss, and Maura is so completely stunned by the feeling, that for a long while all she can do is let Jane's lips move over her own.

Finally, when Jane's fingers slide into her hair and she is pushed backwards, her brain springs to life. She wraps her arms around Jane's waist and pulls her down on to her shivering at the groan this elicits.

When they pull apart, Maura looks up into dark eyes. They are hazy from kissing, searching her face as if to find any hint of a negative reaction.

"I've never kissed another woman before," Maura says quietly. "I've only ever thought about it."

Jane's eyes have focused on her neck. "How did the real thing measure up?"

Maura arches a little underneath Jane, entranced by how her breath catches. "It was wonderful."

Jane kisses her again, and this time, she drops almost all of her weight against Maura. The action makes them both moan.

Maura is hot. She is physically hot, the temperature inside her chest building like a tidal wave of want and pleasure. She breaks away from Jane's mouth, panting.

"I want," she begins.

But Jane's hands are slipping under her shirt. Her long fingers are tracing her ribcage, and she can't think of the end of her sentence.

Whatever she wanted is nothing compared to this.

"You're so beautiful," Jane says against her throat.

It's hard to think. Maura's body is humming. "I've...I've never," she stutters, and Jane stills above her.

"I'm sorry," she says. Her voice is deep and rough. She moves to pull away, but Maura's hands lock around her waist, holding her in place.

"No!" she says, more loudly than she means to. "No, don't...I just wanted to tell you that...I don't want you to be disappoint-"

"Stop," Jane cuts her off firmly. "I don't want you to be uncomfortable. I don't want to move too fast. But you could _never_ be disappointing."

Crying will ruin the moment, but Maura can't help tearing up just a little. Jane leans to kiss the side of her mouth, an invitation that Maura accepts, turning her head to the side to press her lips to Jane's. Kissing her is unlike anything she's experienced before. She cannot get enough of it. She's only vaguely aware of the movement of her hips against Jane's, and the way each time she presses, she gets a beautiful little gasp in response.

"I want to see you," she says, when they break apart again. "I want to - I mean, if you'd let me. I'd love to see you."

Jane chuckles, sitting up over Maura and reaching down for the hem of her t-shirt. "Sure, doctor," she teases.

The shirt comes off. The bra.

Maura runs her hands along the muscles in Jane's back. She traces the swell of her breasts until the other woman is panting, eyes shut tight.

Jane is exquisite. Maura's hands find the little scar on her shoulder. She traces her fingers down her throat all the way to her naval. She leans forward and kisses a nipple, and when Jane moans, she does it again. The noises Jane is making are inside of Maura's body. They elicit a physical response.

It is a first.

"If you keep doing that," Jane growls. "I don't think I'll be able to - uh…" he checks and neck go pink.

Maura has the realization only seconds before the words come out of her mouth. "I want you to orgasm," she says quickly. "If that's what you want. I'd love to see you orgasm."

Jane's faint blush deepens. "Don't call it that," she murmurs, though her hips momentarily pick up their pace. Maura wonders if she could push herself over, just from the friction. Is it possible she has that effect on another person?

"I don't want to like," Jane breathes deeply. Stops moving. "I don't want your first time with a woman to be fully dressed on a couch," she says, looking Maura in the eyes. "We're not 17. Or even 30."

Maura nods. "So let's go to bed," she says.

Jane's mouth falls open. "Huh?" It is clearly not the response she was anticipating.

Maura laughs. "I said, let's go to bed then," she answers, more boldly than she feels. "If you want to. And it doesn't have to mean anything if you don't-"

But Jane kisses her again, and then scrambles off the couch, pulling Maura after her. She grabs her around the waist, pressing them together, and the feeling of Jane, bare-chested in her arms, makes Maura a little light headed.

"You make me feel...really good," Jane says into her neck. "You know that, right? And not just like...sex good. Just...in general good."

Maura can't say anything, so she squeezes tighter.

"And even if we just go upstairs and like, lie together and talk about nothing. Or if we start, and then you decide I'm not who you want to have your first time with...I just want you to-"

It is Maura's turn to make Jane stop talking, and she does so by pressing her hand to the fullness of Jane's breast.

"Bed," she says.

Jane smirks at her. "Yes, Doctor."

…

…

Maura goes to two more Rizzoli Sundays.

Frankie pulls her aside at the second one to tell her that although the entire family understands that she is Jane's new girlfriend, no one but him will ever acknowledge it. It is an agreement they've had since Jane came out. He hugs her though, and tells her he's never seen Jane this happy.

Maura hugs him back. Although he has answered several of her outstanding questions, he has not even touched on the biggest mystery of all.

 _The baby. Where did this baby come from? Jane is out. She's gay. So...the baby? Why was she pregnant?_

But the more time she spends with Jane, the more she finds that she doesn't particularly care.

She hadn't been ready for sex that first night, despite how aroused she was, or how sexy Jane looked in just her underwear. And true to her word, Jane had taken her hand, and they had talked about nothing until she couldn't keep her eyes open.

She'd had thirteen texts from Aisha the next morning, all of them different variations on the cause of her death from 'not getting any information from the woman who is supposed to be her friend.'"

Maura had been in the middle of texting her back when Jane rolled over, opening sleepy eyes, and breaking into a smile when she saw Maura there.

And Dr. Hamilton would have to wait just a little bit longer.

Her lawyer calls her, in the middle of the third week, to tell her she will be called the following Monday. And that night, when Jane appears at her door, she collapses against her, crying.

It should not still hurt, and she is angry. She is so _angry_.

Jane promises to be there the entire time. It is this earnest, wonderful promise that makes her realize that Jane is _with_ her.

She has not thought about the baby in almost eight days.

…

This is how the world explodes.

Maura is sitting in Jane's apartment with Angela. They are waiting for Jane to return from the precinct so that they can all go to the courthouse together. Angela had insisted that she would be there for Maura as well, and the declaration makes the doctor develop a lump in her throat every time she thinks about it.

When the landline rings, Angela moves to answer, but Maura suggests that she let it go to voicemail to avoid having to take a message. Angela taps her temple with a smile.

"Always thinking," she says.

Maura laughs, because this is a gentle barb that she has become used to from this woman. It is her way of showing affection.

And then, answering machine clicks on, and the world begins to crumble.

" _Hi Jane, Dr. Hamilton. I'm just checking in with you. I know that you received some difficult news at your appointment yesterday, about your ability to successfully carry another child. I know that Dr. Roswell was probably a bit harsh, and I would love it if you would call to schedule an appointment with me. I know that the feeling of losing a child, on top of the reality that you might not be able to have another can seem overwhelming but the scenarios he laid out for you are all worst case, and there are still plenty of options left to you. I'd love to discuss them. Give me a call. 617-555-3450. Thanks."_

They sit frozen on the couch, staring at the spot in the kitchen where the answering machine is plugged into the wall.

Maura turns her head slowly to look at Angela, praying she hasn't put the pieces together, while also knowing that there is no way she wouldn't have.

Angela stares wide eyed into the other room. Maura can practically hear her brain whirring, connecting dots that don't have anything to do with each other.

"Angela," she says quietly. "Jane-"

"She was pregnant," Angela says suddenly, her head jerking around to look at Maura. "She was...pregnant and now she can't have another baby."

"That is not what Aisha said," Maura points out. "She said that Dr. Roswell was a bit harsh with his assessment and she would like to discuss-"

"You knew," Angela cuts her off.

"I-"

"You knew she was pregnant, didn't you?" She is not really asking. She stares at Maura, wide eyed. On the very precipice of an emotion that is either anger or despair. Maura wishes she knew which.

"Yes." The truth is the only thing Maura can offer her. "I knew."

Angela stands slowly, and Maura wants to stand too, but she is unable to make her legs move. "For how long?"

"I…" Maura falters.

"FOR HOW LONG?" Angela yells.

"Since the night I went to walk Jo Friday," Maura says. "I...since that night." When she dares to look up, she sees that Angela is gaping at her as though she has never seen her before.

"And neither of you thought to tell me. She never-" she breaks off and turns away. It takes Maura a confused moment to realize that the other woman is looking for her phone. She intends to call Jane.

No.

She intends to _yell_ at her.

Maura leaps to her feet. Before she has really registered her own movements, she is accross the room, yanking the little cell phone out of Angela's hands.

"Maura! What are you doing?" Angela asks, bewildered.

"You can't yell at her," she says, gripping the phone tightly. "You can't call her and tell her we know. She's kept it from us for a reason."

Understanding flashes in Angela's eyes for a moment. "You don't understand," she says in a voice that almost drips condescension. "This is something I've wanted-"

"What about what _Jane_ wanted?" Maura asks, her voice rising. "What about what Jane is feeling?"

Angela stares at her. "She was going to have my grandchild, and she didn't tell me," she says. "I have every right to be-"

"Her child," Maura cuts her off again. "Before it was your grandchild, it was going to be _her_ child. So that means she gets to tell us if and when she's ready. And not a moment before."

Maura doesn't know where these words are coming from. She doesn't know that she's ever spoken to _anyone_ like this before. But all she can see when she blinks, is Jane's sleepy smile when she wakes up in the morning.

Jane's hand in hers as they walk to the park with Jo Friday.

Jane, dropping by after her re-certification with flowers, grinning shyly at Aisha and kissing Maura on the cheek.

She protects the city, and her mother and brothers, and Maura...and herself. And it must be so tiring. So Maura will protect her now. No matter the cost.

"Leave her alone," she says now, surprised at how dangerous she sounds. "Whatever hurt you feel is nothing compared to what she's feeling."

Angela regards Maura for a long, cold moment. "My grandchild died to save you," she says finally.

Before sleeping with Jane, before making eggs in the morning and laughing at a comics section she'd never even glanced at. Before a woman left trail of spinach and strawberries through her kitchen in an attempt to befriend her tortoise, and before she had a running partner who never left her behind, this sentence was Maura's worst nightmare.

Now. She finds that it barely grazes her.

"Yes," she says. "And whatever guilt I feel is nothing compared to what she's feeling."

Angela blinks at her.

"If she wants to tell me, she will," Maura says. "We have a relationship. We are _in_ a relationship, and if she felt...if she held me personally responsible for the loss, then we wouldn't be." The words are like a revelation as she says them. When did she start to believe them?

"She's brave, and loyal, and she loves you so, so much, Angela. If you call her to tell her how hurt you are that she lost _your grandchild_ , she will let you chide her, and listen while you express your disappointment over a job that she was _born_ to do. She won't protect herself from that. She'll be sarcastic and witty, and she'll take it." Maura squares her shoulders, looking Angela right in the eye. "I won't let you."

Angela's eyebrows almost reach her hairline. "You won't _let_ me?" she asks sounding genuinely surprised.

And a voice from the doorway makes them both spin around, shocked.

"You heard her," Jane says. She's leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed across her chest. "She won't let you."


	6. Six

_The first time Jane touches her, Maura thinks she will explode. She thinks she will pass out, or worse, embarrass herself and come before Jane even really begins._

" _Breathe," Jane says against her ear. Maura feels her lips curl into a smile. "Breathe, Maura. If you tell me to stop I promise I-"_

" _No! God, no. Don't stop," she says before she can stop herself._

 _Jane chuckles. "Okay," she says. "Message received."_

 _Maura blushes, but she can't help moaning. Jane kisses her jaw, and then her neck, and between this and the hand between her legs, insistent, she is closer to orgasm faster than she ever has been._

" _I'm so close," she says breathlessly. "I - God - Jane!"_

 _Jane has shifted so that she is half on top of her, hips grinding against Maura's leg in time with her fingers. "Is it good? Is it okay?"_

 _Maura nods, moaning agains as Jane's fingers slip inside of her. "Don't stop," she says, dimly aware that she's repeating herself. She pulls Jane closer by the shoulder blades. "Don't stop. I'm - Oh, God - I'm going to have-"_

 _That's as far as she gets._

 _Her climax washes over her like a wave. It is raining fireworks behind her eyelids, and though she can hear Jane talking to her, the sound is coming from a long way off._

 _Someone is humming. It takes her a long, languid moment to realize that it is her. She is humming quietly, the remnants of her release slipping from her body._

 _Jane rolls them over, pulling Maura snugly against her._

" _That felt so…good," Maura says dreamily._

 _Jane rumbles with laughter. "Good!" She says. "I hope so."_

 _But Maura props herself up on her elbow, shaking her head. "No," she says. "That's not accurate. It felt better than that. It felt…deeper than that." she stops herself, but Jane is just looking at her with her usual half smile. Her own eyes are still dark with desire._

 _Maura shivers. "It felt right," she says finally, blushing at her confession._

 _But Jane pushes up to kiss her softly._

" _I know," she says, pulling Maura down so that she can cover them both with the sheet. "Me too."_

…

…

The car ride to the courthouse is silent and tense. Angels sits in the backseat, after Jane holds the passenger door open and gestures that Maura should get in.

Maura hesitates, but ultimately settles in next to Jane, trying to make herself breathe normally. Trying to focus on the task ahead, already overwhelmingly daunting before this new development.

Jane, it seems, is thinking along the same lines. "Don't be nervous," she says softly, breaking the mood like a taut rubberband. "We went over what they're likely to ask you, right?"

Maura nods, turning to looks at Jane. The detective has her eyes fixed on the road, but when she feels Maura's gaze she glances at her, and smiles briefly.

In the back of the car, Angela makes a soft sound, like 'pfft.'

"And I know you said you don't think seeing him will have a major effect on you, but it's okay if it does. You know?"

Maura nods again. She feels like she is in the twilight zone, in an alternate reality where things happen to her, but she can't really feel them.

It feels like hours, and like no time at all before they arrive at the courthouse. Jane has had her badge back for almost two full months, and all of the security guards and cops that they pass in the halls either tip their hats respectfully or nod, eyes cast downward.

Outside the courtroom, Jane holds Maura back, telling Angela to go inside and save her a place. Angela looks at Maura for a long moment before saying, "good luck," in a way that might imply the opposite.

Jane waits until the door shuts to put her hand on Maura's cheek. "You okay?"

"I'm okay," Maura says, hearing how monotone she sounds.

"You don't look okay," Jane says softly. "Maura, look at me."

It is hard for the doctor to do so, and then once she does, it is hard for her to do anything else. Before she can regain control of any of her faculties, they are kissing.

Jane is kissing her, gentle and comforting, and Maura just wants to stay wrapped up in this blanket feeling of protectiveness for the rest of her life.

"You're amazing," Jane says. "You're going to be amazing. Fairfield's worst nightmare."

Maura smiles.

The sensation of Jane's lips on hers carries her all the way up to the stand.

Then she blinks. And blinks again. And there is Garrett, staring at her with both malice and smug confidence.

"Doctor Isles," the prosecution is addressing her. "Were you aware that your husband was cheating on you?"

…

…

 _Jane has a scar on the palm of each hand, and a matching one on the back. Maura discovers this one morning, lying next to the brunette in bed. She takes one of Jane's hands in both of her own, and is surprised to feel the little bump there._

 _She is surprised that she has not noticed it before now._

" _How did this happen?" she asks, looking up to see Jane watching her intently. She turns Jane's hand over, and her frown deepens. "This was serious," she murmurs._

"And, Doctor Isles, you never even suspected that Mr. Fairfield might have had a hand in killing his brother? It never even crossed your mind?"

 _Jane lets her look and feel for as long as she likes. She hands Maura her smart phone, the story pulled up for her to read. She kisses Maura's temple when she cries._

" _My darling," Maura says against Jane's shoulder. "I can't even imagine."_

 _Jane's hands are now rubbing up and down her back, just her fingertips touching Maura's skin, like she's suddenly ashamed to put the full weight of her hands down._

" _It was a while ago," she says, her voice dropping low in a way that Maura is beginning to recognize as a precursor to tears. "They don't hurt as much…anymore."_

"And you weren't leaving Mr. Fairfield because of his infidelity, were you, Doctor? Can you please state for the court why you were filing for divorce from the defendant?"

" _I…don't like to really…talk about it." Jane looks away from her, jaw set against emotions she doesn't want to let out. "It wasn't…I was young and…I paid the price for pride. I-"_

 _But Maura sits up and pulls one of Jane's hands to her lips, kissing the palm, and then the tender skin of her wrist, up her forearm to her elbow. "You don't have to talk about it now," she says between her kisses. "We have time. You can just let it happen when it happens."_

 _She presses her lips to Jane's shoulder, feeling the liquid way she relaxes at the touch. When Maura reaches her neck, Jane is breathing fast, one hand tugging Maura closer by her tank top, the other playing with the hem of her lounge pants._

" _You're the best thing that's happened to me in a long time," Jane says. "Maura. Kiss me."_

 _Maura thinks that if this is what it truly means to be in a relationship, then she has been missing out on everything._

"Thank you, Doctor Isles. You may step down."

Maura does so, in a daze. She is living in a double world, seeing Garrett's angry face and Jane's kind, supportive one, like the split screen of a television.

She folds herself into Jane's arms the moment they are back in the hall, her resolve to let the Detective go crumbling the minute they are close to each other.

"I've been horrible," she says into the lapel of Jane's jacket. "What have I done?"

Jane's arm around her shoulder tightens. "Let's go home," she says.

Maura doesn't protest.

…

They drive home in silence, and when they get to Jane's apartment, they sit together on the couch in silence for a long time.

Maura is trying desperately to think of something to say that won't sound self-serving.

"We can talk about it," she says. "The events of today are not as important as any questions you might have."

Jane doesn't answer. She is leaning forward, her elbows on her knees, and she has a look on her face that Maura has come to associate with deep, deep thoughts.

"Jane-"

"You knew I was pregnant?" She speaks out of nowhere, her voice deep and hesitant, like she doesn't really want to start this conversation.

"Yes," Maura says. She is determined to answer any question about this that Jane asks her. She will not cry and she will not sidestep. She will answer, and she will take whatever consequences come.

"Since before we really met," Jane says. "You knew?"

"Yes."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"I…don't know," Maura says, folding her hands together. "I didn't want you to think I was prying into your business. And then, it had been so long that it seemed worse to bring it up than to just, go on as we were. And _then_ …"

 _And then you were mine. Mine and in my arms and I just couldn't risk losing you._

"But you didn't tell my Ma," Jane states this like a fact, but Maura answers anyway.

"No. It wasn't my place to tell her. And…I didn't want to betray your trust. I don't know how much of my conversation with Angela you overheard, but I meant it when I said that if you wanted to talk about it, you would have told her…or me."

Jane dips her head a little, her hair falling through her face. Maura wishes she could still see the other woman's expression. She does so much better at understanding Jane when she can see her eyes. She doesn't reach out and touch her though. She isn't sure she still has that right.

Suddenly Jane stands and heads to the bookshelf. Maura watches as she pulls down a familiar book, flipping it open.

Maura wants to say her name, wants to stop her from showing her what she knows is coming, but she can't make herself do anything.

Jane plops down on the couch next to Maura again. "This is…this a sonogram of the baby I was going to have," she says, her voice catching the tiniest bit.

This is obvious to Maura, but she doesn't say anything in return. She thinks that Jane might not have ever said aloud before that she was going to have a baby.

Jane holds the picture out to her with a shaking hand, and after a glance into her face, Maura takes it, holding gently around the edges.

"Beautiful," she says quietly.

Jane blinks a couple times. "It's – um – the last one I had before I lost…" she clears her throat. Maura clenches her jaw, trying to keep the tears at bay. She nods.

"Can you tell if, I mean…I know that doctors aren't supposed to say what the gender is before it's really obvious. But…" she swallows hard, and her eyes shift to look at the little sonogram in Maura's hands.

"Can you tell?" she asks finally. "Can you…make a – like, what is it – an educated guess?"

Maura holds in a sob. Three more weeks. Just 21 more days, probably even less, and she'd be able to answer this question the way she longs to.

"I'm so sorry," she says shakily. "It's too soon." Her voice breaks on the last word.

Jane nods, still looking down at her hands. "Okay," she says, and she reaches out for the picture, tucking it safely back into the book.

"I'm-"

"It's okay," Jane says quickly. She she puts the book on the coffee table and sits back, not looking at Maura. Her eyes are shiny, but tears haven't spilled over.

"I came out to my family eight years ago," Jane says, still looking downward. "I'd…met a girl, named Kira. She was a firefighter, maybe still is…I'm not sure."

Maura has turned to look at Jane's profile. She wants to reach out, to touch the other woman the way she has so many times before on this couch. But she can't make herself.

"My parents hit the ceiling. Well, my dad did. My mom just cried."

Maura wonders what her mother would say, if she knew of Maura's new relationship. Or what her father would say, were he still living.

"But…you know…I had Mat - that's what she went by, her last name was Matthews - I had Mat and nothing else seemed to matter. It was one of the most liberating things I think I've ever done."

"I'm glad." Maura can think of nothing else to say. It feels like a horribly out of place response in the face of such confession.

"We broke up," Jane says, "About two years ago, and it was like I was sixteen all over again, you know?"

"Yes," Maura says. She has felt that way around Jane.

"It was so hard. I felt like I'd lost my first love. But a thousand times worse. And to top it off, my Ma was _happy_ ," Jane scoffs. Her eyes have gone far away.

"She kept pushing these men at me. And I kept dating women I _knew_ were wrong, just to spite her. Just to show her, like, 'I can ruin my life way more than you can.'"

She looks at Maura to see if she's following, and Maura nods, hoping she looks encouraging. This is the most that Jane has said to her since she walked in on her and Angela fighting, and it might be the longest she's ever spoken about herself and her past.

"And then, my mom hooked me up with this guy…Casey." Jane shakes her head. "We were…sort of together in high school. He was a jock, but he didn't care that I was into sports too."

Jane wrings her hands. "Anyway. He's in the army, so he wasn't around a lot. But every time he was, my mom would push us and push us together, and finally I was like…fine. Okay."

Jane's head drops to her hands. She takes a deep breath. "Sleeping with him felt like the worst betrayal…to both of us," she says softly. "I told him the next day that we weren't going to be a couple…but karma is kind of a bitch. I found out I was pregnant a month later."

And at last, Maura has her answers. When they first began seeing each other romantically, Maura would sometimes wish that they'd met some other way. Any other way.

"I don't believe in karma," she says quietly, though she cannot explain the horrible irony that has allowed her to find a woman she could fall in love with, yet make the circumstances completely unworkable.

"I…was looking forward to being a mother." Jane says it so quietly and tentatively that Maura is not sure she's heard. When she does process the words, she cannot help the tears that leak out of the corners of her eyes.

She has to admit to herself, finally, that the awful thing that brought them together, would also be the thing that keeps them apart.

"You would have been a wonderful mother," she says, and the break in her voice makes Jane look around at her.

"Oh," she says, and her tone is not one of shock, but of dismay. "Maura," she reaches out her hands to the doctor. They are still shaking. "Don't cry," she says. "Please don't cry."

Maura gets to her feet. She cannot stay here, no matter how much she might want to. She cannot offer to comfort the woman that she has robbed, and she cannot stay and be comforted. It is wrong on so many levels.

"I think I should go," she says, past the vice that has closed around her throat. "I think I should…give you time?"

Jane stands too. "Time for what?" she asks, looking genuinely perplexed.

"To…decide how you feel," Maura says, and she almost starts to cry again when Jane's face falls.

 _Tell me you want me to stay._ It is all she wants to hear in the world. _Ask me to stay._

"Can I see you again? After this?"

Maura shuts her eyes for a long moment, so she doesn't have to see Jane's expression. The hope and the love that she doesn't deserve.

"Yes," she says. "Of course. If you want to."

Jane steps up to her. She takes her hand. "I meant what I said today, Maura. You were amazing on the stand. Fairfield's worst nightmare."

Maura shakes her head jerkily. This is what she didn't want.

Jane, comforting her despite the fact that she is the reason for all of the detective's pain. She pulls her hand away gently and heads to the door.

"Maura," Jane's voice makes her turn back, even though she knows she shouldn't.

"How can you look at me?" She asks before she can stop herself. "How can you just stand there and look at me and think that you, that you care about me, when I'm the one who took away your opportunity to be a mother?"

Jane's eyes widen at her outburst.

Maura hadn't meant to speak so loudly, but she cannot help herself. "How can you look at me, knowing I knew, and didn't say anything, and then just… _allowed_ myself to get close to you. Allowed _you_ possibly begin to care about me? How can you just stand there and comfort me! I should be the one comforting you. I don't deserve to comfort you. I…God."

The emotions flitting across Jane's face are moving too quickly for Maura to interpret them, and so she turns away and assumes the worst, pulling the door to the hall open.

"I'm sorry," she says, crying hard, stumbling over the words. "I'm sorry. I'm going."

"Maura," Jane's voice is strained. "Please don't-"

"No!" Maura says, shoving her hand, palm out, back at Jane. "Please don't. Thank you for everything you did for me today. Every day. I could not have made it through this without you. I…Thank you."

" _Maura_ -"

But the doctor does not allow herself to turn, not even when Jane says her name again, sounding slightly desperate and near tears herself. She hurries down the hall to the stairwell, and descends them so quickly that holding onto the railing is the only reason she doesn't fall.

In the car, in the parking lot, Maura calls Aisha.

"Dr. Hamilton."

"Aisha."

"Maura. Where are you? Is it the trial? What happened?" Aisha's concern makes her sound harsh, just like Maura's does. It is one of the reasons she liked her, in the beginning.

Now it makes Maura cry harder. "She found out," is all she can say.

There is a brief pause. "Where are you?"

"In my car."

"Where is your car, honey?"

Maura sniffs, looking around as though her car might have moved itself in the last few minutes. "Jane's apartment."

"Okay." Aisha breathes out. "Okay. Can you get home? It's not far, right?"

Maura nods, then remembers Aisha can't see her. "Yes," she says. "Yes. I can get home. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have-"

"Stop," Aisha cuts her off. "I'm already on my way to your house. I'll meet you there, okay?"

Maura looks up through her sunroof as new tears come to her eyes. Is she the type of person that deserves a friend like this?

"Maura, you still there?"

"I'm here."

"Okay," Aisha says. "Come home. I'll be there when you arrive."

"Thank you," Maura whispers. And after disconnecting the call, the turns the key in the ignition and pulls out of the parking lot.

She doesn't look over her shoulder at the apartment building as it shrinks in her rearview mirror, and she doesn't allow herself to think about the possibility that she will never go there again.

She definitely doesn't think about Jane, and the way her face had looked as she handed the sonogram to Maura.

Her phone buzzes on the passenger seat, two short, one long.

Jane's programmed buzz.

Maura looks at it, just to be sure, and then she takes a deep, steadying breath.

And turns her cell phone off.


	7. Seven

Maura wakes up with a headache. It is a heavy, muddy, sludge that parks itself directly behind her eyes. She blinks several times, and rolls over, away from the window. She can't remember the last time she was in bed when the sun was so high.

She glances at the clock next to the bed, 8:33am, and then rolls onto her back to stare at the ceiling. Aisha had called in to the hospital for her last night, telling them that Maura was taking the rest of the week for personal time.

Maura has nowhere to be. It is just another first in a long line of them.

She stretches out her arms, and her hands drifts over something small and crinkly. It is a post-it, filled up to the edge with Aisha's chicken scratch handwriting. Maura stares for a long second before realizing that she is holding it upside down. She turns it right.

 _If you're awake and it's before 8am, I am out grabbing Jesse. If you're awake and it's after 8am come down and have some breakfast. Thinks looks better with pancakes._

Maura smiles, despite her head, despite the fact that yesterday's events are rushing back at her like a cold draft. She pushes the covers back, trying not to think about all the mornings she woke up with Jane beside her. She'd begun to think of it as normal, to wake up to the sound of the shower running, Jane's soft humming floating through the cracked bathroom door.

She glances at herself in the mirror before realizing once again that she doesn't really have a reason to dress up. She squeezes her eyes shut for a second, so that she doesn't cry. She did enough crying last night to last her a lifetime. She'd relayed the entire story to Aisha, who had indeed been there when she got home.

Jane finding out she knew about the baby, but staying to comfort her after her testimony.

Maura, too tired to do anything but allow Jane to do so, until the horror at herself and her selfishness would not allow her to stay any longer.

Jane. Not asking her to stay.

Aisha had not said much, but she hadn't let go of Maura either, not for the entire night. She'd held her hand, and then she'd rubbed her back, and then finally, Maura drifted off with the other woman's fingers in her hair. They didn't feel anywhere near as good or as familiar as Jane's, but the comfort was undeniable.

"Thank you," she'd said, fighting sleep, her head in Aisha's lap, eyes dropping closed. "I don't know what I did to deserve you."

Where those Dr. Hamilton's lips grazing her temple like that? She couldn't be sure.

She couldn't be sure that Aisha actually said the words, "everything is going to be okay," or if she just imagined it.

She runs a hand through her hair in front of the mirror, shaking herself. She manages not to cry, to not even tear up this time. Where there were tears, now she can only feel that dull brown sludge, and the uneven throb of her headache.

 _Aspirin. Aspirin and a cup of coffee, s_ he thinks to herself as she steps out into the hall.

She can hear Aisha and her son in the kitchen from the first landing, and she finds herself smiling again as the sound of Jesse giggling reaches her. She'd been apprehensive about him showing up, had thought maybe she should just stay upstairs where her bad mood wouldn't affect anyone. But now she finds that she wants to see him, wants very much to still be a part of _something,_ rather than try to keep herself afloat alone.

She rounds the corner in time to see Jesse lift a wooden spoon full of batter to his mouth, lick it clean and then plop it back into the mixing bowl. His mother, with her back to him, does not see. When Maura makes a noise – shock, with a hint of disapproval – Jesse looks up, his eyes widening.

"Hi, Auntie Maura," he says innocently, grinning at her with his gapped and lopsided teeth. He has flower in his tightly cropped hair.

"Hello, Jesse," Maura says. "I see you've lost another tooth."

"Yeah," he says excitedly. "Trevor kicked this one out in Karate!"

Aisha turns to them, rolling her eyes. "That's better than the playground incident that lost you your eye tooth, I suppose."

"Trevor?" Maura questions. "I thought you weren't speaking to him."

Jesse shrugs, jumping up onto the stool by the breakfast bar, so that he can make a grab for the ladle. "We made up," he says simply. "He said he didn't mean to step on my iPod."

Aisha pours a bowl of eggs into a pan on the stove. "And his mother replaced it," she adds. "That helps."

Maura laughs, coming to sit down next to Jesse. He has succeeded in retrieving the ladle, and while his mother busies herself with the eggs, he looks at her slyly. "You want some waffle batter?" he asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

"I think I prefer to wait until they're cooked," Maura says as Aisha spins to slide the bowl away from him.

"Don't think I don't know you've had your tongue in this batter, young man!" she says, her eyes belying the stern tone of her voice. "If your aunt and I come down with some dread disease because of your cooties, I expect you to take care of us both until the bitter end."

Jesse has a laugh like a hoot. He bats his eyes at his mother. "Cooties don't exist," he counters. "And you are both full of immunities from working at the hospital."

Aisha rolls her eyes at Maura. "You try to teach them, and then they use it against you," she says it sarcastically, but her face is kind and concerned. She holds out a cup of coffee. "How are you feeling, honey?"

Maura swallows hard. "I'm glad you two are here," she says shakily.

"Of course," Aisha says.

"Auntie Maura?" Jesse says looking up at her with his light brown eyes. "Do you want me to beat someone up for you?"

Maura says "No," at the same time that Aisha says, "Um, excuse me?"

Jesse wrinkles his nose. "What?" he asks his mother. "You told me I could learn Karate for protection. Don't I get to protect Maura?"

Aisha's face softens. Maura thinks maybe she was not quite as empty of tears as she'd believed.

"Protection is different than aggression," Aisha says gently. "It's sweet of you to want to protect Maura from things, but you only get to beat someone up if they are actively trying to do harm. And _only_ after talking hasn't worked."

Jesse's mouth turns down in a comical sullen mask. "Oh-Kayy," he huffs. "Fiiiine."

"Well," Aisha says to Maura with a smirk. "I guess grumpy over there doesn't get the first pancake!" and she sets a steaming plate down in front of the doctor.

Jesse sits up straight, putting on a smile. "I'm ready!" he says eagerly. "See?"

Aisha chuckles, and produces two more plates, pulling up a stool so she can sit herself.

"Thank you for making this," Maura says. "It all looks wonderful."

Jesse cannot be diverted by the arrival of food. "Auntie Maura?"

"Yes, darling?"

"You're sad because you and your girlfriend are not girlfriends anymore, yeah?"

Maura glances at Aisha, and when she nods minutely, she nods too. "Yes," she says, hearing the wobble in her voice. "That's why I am sad."

Jesse's face darkens a little. "Did she hurt your feelings?"

"No," Maura says, trying to smile. "No…I think we just…It just wasn't meant to be."

Aisha makes a sound of disagreement at this, but when Maura raises an eye brow in her direction, she studies her coffee with fierce intensity until she looks away.

Jesse is smirking at her when she focuses her attention back on him.

"What's so funny?" she asks.

"Mama says you guys are gonna end up together," he says. "She says you just don't know it yet."

Maura's sputter is not as loud as Aisha's. "That is the _last_ time I ever tell you a secret, Mister Man!" she scolds.

Maura doesn't know whether to laugh or cry. Perhaps this is what it's like to end a relationship when there are people there to help you through it.

"You have to go to the hospital today?" she asks, nodding as Aisha gestures to her coffee.

"Nope! I'm supposed to take big mouth over here to get him some super cool new glasses for back to school." She narrows her eyes at her son. "Though now…."

Jesse grins at Maura. "You want to come with me? Help me pick them out?"

Maura hesitates for only one small moment. "Yes," she says. "Thank you."

…

…

The door rings before they can finish breakfast, and Jesse hops down from his stool and runs into the front hall.

"Is it shoes, Auntie Maura?" He calls back excitedly. "I like the ones with the super sharp points on the end!"

Aisha grins at her. "Don't we all," she murmurs.

Maura turns towards the hall, waiting for Jesse to call her to come sign, but when almost half a minute passes in relative silence, she calls out.

"Who is it, Jesse?"

A pause. "A police lady!" Jesse calls back. "Sorry. A police _woman_." There is another minuscule pause, and then Jesse's disgruntled voice again. " _Sorry._ A _De-TECT-ive!"_ He over enunciates the word, and Aisha snorts.

Maura stands up, and then her body freezes, and she cannot move in any direction. Jane Rizzoli is in her front hallway, and she is just standing there, with syrup sticky fingers, not moving an inch.

"Breathe," Aisha whispers. "This is a good-" but then she breaks off, because Jesse and Jane appear around the corner.

Jane is wearing a plain white t-shirt and faded denim jeans. She has taken off her shoes, and one sock is purple, the other one gray. Her hair is down, and a little wild, and Maura wants to be in her arms.

Naked.

For a moment the four of them stand there, awkward, just looking between each other. Maura notices at that Jesse is studying Jane with a suspicious expression.

"Hello, Jane!" Aisha says brightly.

"Hi, Dr. Hamilton," Jane says slowly. She is glancing between them, her expression cloudy. Maura tries to discern what she is thinking. "I'm…sorry to interrupt. I just-"

"You weren't interrupting," Maura says quickly.

"Just breakfast," Jesse points out, still looking at her with pointed eight-year old intensity. "You like pancakes?"

Jane half grins at him. "Yeah," she says easily. "Are there people who don't?"

His expression lightens by a small degree. "Do you want one?"

Jane looks unsure. She glances at Aisha, and then at Maura again.

 _She looks upset, She looks…disappointed?_ Maura stares at her, trying to figure it out.

"No," Jane says, glancing down at the floor. "No. I'm intruding. I just wanted to make sure that-"

"You are not intruding," Aisha says firmly. She is still smiling like the cat who ate the canary, despite how glaringly awkward the situation seems to be. "Jess and I were just leaving."

Jesse's eyes snap up to his mothers. "What about my glasses?" he asks.

"That's where we're going now, batboy," she says breezily.

"But Maura was gonna-" Jesse's mouth closes with a snap at the warning look his mother gives him. He frowns and, clearly confused, he slouches over to Maura and puts his arms around her waist.

"Can I send a selfie of my glasses when I get 'em?"

"Of course," Maura says, hugging back. "I can't wait."

This seems to cheer him up, and after another look at Jane, he heads after his mother towards the door.

"Bye, Maura," Aisha calls. "I'll see you at the hospital on Tuesday! Good-Bye Jane! I'll see you again too, I'm sure."

This comment turns Jane's dismayed expression sour, and Maura realizes what is wrong immediately. The understanding nearly bowls her over.

 _She's jealous. She's jealous of Aisha._

Jane turns to face her as the door clicks shut, and Maura speaks quickly before the other woman can even open her mouth.

"We're not lovers!" she says, her adrenaline making her voice too loud.

Jane jumps slightly. "Um…okay?" she answers, raising her eyebrows.

"Aisha and I," Maura clarifies. "We're not lovers. We never have been. I would never leave your apartment the way I did last night, and then seek solace in intercourse with someone else."

Jane goes pink. "Okay," she says again, but this time she definitely sounds relieved. "Your phone is off," she continues after a second.

Maura looks around her, as though her cell is going to materialize out of nowhere. "Oh. I…I turned it off last night when I was upset. And then I forgot."

Jane nods. "I was really worried," she says, looking away. She lifts the hem of her shirt to reveal her service weapon, and then pulls it out of its clip holster and sets it on the counter. "Like, really worried," she says.

Maura takes a step closer to her. "I'm sorry I worried you."

"It's okay," Jane shrugs.

"It isn't," Maura insists. "I should have told you I was home safely."

"I should have asked you to stay."

Silence. Jane wrings her hands together nervously, her thumb and forefingers pressing rhythmically against the scars on her palms as she looks anywhere but Maura's face.

"Do you want help loading the dishwasher?" she asks.

Maura turns to survey the breakfast dishes. "Oh," she is about to say it's fine, but then Jane steps up beside her, and begins stacking plates, and their closeness makes her feel calm. "Thank you."

Jane smiles, glancing at her.

They are silent for a while longer. Maura marvels at how messy her friend and colleague is and wonders if it happens to everyone when a child comes into the picture.

"It was Hoyt that broke me and Kira up." Jane speaks out of nowhere, with her back facing Maura, who whirls to face her, eyes wide.

"He…" she struggles to catch up. "You and Kira?"

"Yeah," Jane says, still not looking at her. "When he got the drop on me, I thought he'd just kill me, you know? But he was kind of, I don't know, obsessed or something, and he kept me in a basement and…I guess you could call it torture…he tortured me for a while."

Maura holds her breath, trying not to ruin the moment, even if she's not sure what it is.

"I…when I started working to get better…I…" Jane rolls her shoulders. "I shut her out." Her voice drops low, and she sounds dangerous, although Maura guess she's mostly upset with herself.

"I didn't want to talk about what happened with her. I didn't want her to comfort me, and I didn't want to acknowledge that she might need comfort too. It felt too hard, and I felt so guilty that a mistake I made could hurt her the way it did. I thought if we just didn't talk about it, we could go back to normal. Everything would be like it was.

"She told me right out, too. She told me what she needed, and I didn't give it to her. She wanted to hold me if I cried about it, and she wanted to come with me to physical therapy. She wanted me to listen to how scared she was when I was missing, and about how horrible it was to see me in the hospital." Jane runs a hand through her hair, which serves only to make it wilder.

"I didn't do it," she says softly. "And she left."

Maura steps up to Jane and puts her hands around her waist from behind, pressing her face into the back of her neck.

"Jane."

"I should have told you," Jane says thickly. "I should have told you right away. Then it wouldn't have mattered if you knew. I should have told you, and then held you while you cried, and told you all the things I was thinking."

Maura shakes her head, swallowing her tears. "It's not your job to-" she begins.

But Jane turns to face her, pushing her away a little so that they can look each other in the face. "I _want_ it to be," she says fiercely. "I want it to be my job to be there for you, Maura. Do you understand? If I'd had the guts to tell you in the first place what I was thinking…Things like: 'It's not your fault,' and, 'I don't blame you,' and, 'I'd do the exact same thing over and over and over to infinity if it kept you here next to me." Jane looks away, eyes bright.

Maura closes her eyes, and the phrases appear on the back of her eyelids, glowing.

 _Over and over and over to infinity._

"If I'd said those things, maybe it would have kept you from letting it eat at you like it has been."

Maura bats at a tear on her cheek. "And what about you? What about _your_ grief, and the feelings eating away at _you?_ " she asks, angry with herself for not being able to control her emotions.

"What about someone comforting you?"

Jane takes her hand. "I don't want someone comforting me, Maura," she says gently. "I want _you_ to comfort me."

It does not seem possible. I cannot be possible.

"I killed-"

"Gomez killed my baby," Jane says firmly. "Your husband is responsible for hiring Gomez, because he didn't believe that you could be as kind and as gentle and as good as you are. This is in no way your fault. I never blamed you, and I never will."

Maura is crying. When Jane pulls her into her arms and kisses the side of her head, she presses her face to Jane's t-shirt and cries until she feels wrung out.

"You would have been a really good mother," she says. "You're going to be a really good mother. And I hope that you try again."

 _And I hope that I'm with you when you do._

She looks up at Jane to see that there are tear tracks on her face too, and when she reaches up to wipe them away, Jane kisses her wrist.

"Don't run away," Jane hums against her pulse. "Especially not to misleadingly eat breakfast food with a hot doctor and her adorable son."

Maura laughs. She wraps her arms around Jane's neck and kisses her.

God, it feels so good.

"Wait," Maura pulls back, narrowing her eyes. "You think Dr. Hamilton is _hot?"_

…

…

It is the afternoon when Maura remembers that she has something for Jane. They have spent their time on the couch, half watching the TV, and mostly kissing.

"This is going to break my mom's heart," Jane says against Maura's lips. "I think she was actually lurking in the parking lot waiting for you to leave. That's how fast she showed up. And I didn't even call her."

Maura pulls away to let the trickle of irritation at Angela dissipate, and Jane watches her face intently. Affectionately

"No one's ever stood up for me like that," she whispers, pushing some of the doctor's hair away from her face. "No one's ever stood up to Ma like that at all. Period."

"I'm sor-"

"Don't," Jane pulls her down against her chest, sighing when Maura slid her hands under her t-shirt. "It was so hot. I almost made her wait in the car so we could," she goes red. " _You_ know..."

Jane laughs as Maura's hands contract against her ribs like they might tickle, and then gasps when they slip under her bra.

"I'm falling in love with you, Jane Rizzoli," Maura says against her ear. Why not lay all her cards on the table?

Why not try honesty from this moment on?

Jane's smile is gorgeous. Full. "Good," she murmurs. "Kiss me."

Maura does, but then pulls away as the memory comes to her. "Oh!"

Jane groans disappointedly. "No. Come back."

"Wait," Maura says, pulling herself up, laughing as Jane tries to hold her back. "No, Jane this is serious. I have something for you from Aisha."

Jane grumbles as Maura leaves for the guest room, returning with a little, cream-colored envelope.

She holds it out. "Here. She left you this."

Jane looks at it warily. "What is it?" she asks, pulling her legs into a pretzel as Maura sits beside her.

"I asked Aisha if she could determine whether the fetus was a boy or a girl. She was in the OR…she would have..." Maura trails off as understanding flickers in Jane's eyes.

She stares at the envelope, but doesn't move to take it.

"Why'd she write it?" she asks finally. "Why didn't she just tell you?"

"You should be the first to hear," Maura says. "You should get the privilege of sharing the knowledge with whomever you want."

Jane blinks at the envelope for another thirty seconds before slowly reaching out and taking it. For a long moment, she just looks at it.

"I don't," she takes a breath. "I can't know the answer without you," she says, just under a whisper. "I don't want to know without you."

Maura leans forward to kiss Jane's cheek. When she sits back, she leaves her hand against Jane's leg.

"I'm right here as long as you want me," she answers.

Jane nods. She takes another big breath, and slits the envelope open.

Maura watches Jane's face as she unfolds the piece of paper and begins to read. Her eyes fill up with tears and spill over, faster than Maura can move her hand from Jane's knee to her cheek.

But the brunette smiles. She smiles and closes her eyes, and more tears slip down her face.

She hands the letter to Maura, but she doesn't let it go.

She presses herself against the doctor until they are no longer sitting, but lying together, Jane almost on top, cocooned in her arms. Against her chest.

"Maura," she says thickly. "Can we stay like this for a while?" Maura slides her hands into Jane's hair, nodding against her forehead.

Jane sighs a heavy, contented sigh.

"God, that feels good," she mumbles. "Your hands in my hair are like home."

Maura smiles. She says, "I know exactly what you mean."

…

…

 _Hello Jane,_

 _Although Maura has several cards on hand for a plethora of occasions, there is no card in existence that is appropriate when used to tell a grieving mother the gender of the baby she lost._

 _Please know that there was no pain, and no suffering, and that though cut short, the life inside of you was healthy and strong, and good._

 _You would have had a daughter._

 _Yours,_

 _Aisha._


	8. Eight

One of the things that Maura is sure she will never get used to is Jane's unwavering trust in her. Her boundless loyalty and love never fail to astound the doctor, not least of all because these emotions seem to be reserved exclusively for her.

Jane loses the next child.

After fourteen long months of treatments without result, they'd finally gotten pregnant. They'd thrown a party, and talked about finally getting rid of Jane's apartment, or getting rid of both their places, and moving someplace entirely new.

For nine weeks, they were both excited. Dazed and nervous, definitely, but also thrilled and eager and happy.

And then Jane miscarried, and the future seemed to sag and wash away like a wet piece of paper.

Maura is sure they will break up. Jane will blame her for this new heartbreak, and it will be too much to bare. But the days slide slowly by, and Jane takes no action that seems to indicate an exit strategy.

"We…could try again," Maura says in bed eleven days later. "Dr. Hicks says there's still a good possibility you could carry to term."

Jane tenses when Maura puts a hand on her shoulder, and then she rolls to face her. In the dark, it is hard tell what she's thinking.

"Okay," she says after a while. Her fingers push some of Maura's hair out of the way.

"Okay?" Maura doesn't know how to ask for confirmation any more clearly than that.

 _Do you still love me?_

 _Do you still want this?_

 _Are you okay? Please talk to me._

"Yeah," is all Jane says, but she moves without hesitation into their favorite sleeping position, pressing a kiss to Maura's neck.

"Love you," she murmurs.

"I love you too," Maura says, and she stays awake for a long time, listening to Jane's deep breathing.

When they meet with their fertility doctor for the second time since the miscarriage, Jane sits in the chair next to Maura and holds her hand, nodding at the appropriate times, but she doesn't really seem to be listening.

"How are you holding up, Jane?" Dr. Hicks asks. She came highly recommended by Aisha, and her face is both concerned and compassionate without tipping the scale towards pity.

"I'm good," Jane says automatically.

Maura frowns, and she sees Dr. Hicks mimic the gesture.

"You know it's perfectly alright to feel a whole range of emotions surrounding your miscarriage. Especially since this is not the first child-"

"Really," Jane says her voice firm and unwavering. "I'm fine. We can try again, right?"

"Yes," Dr. Hicks says. He frown has deepened, and she looks at Maura. "But I think you both should take some time. Talk to each other."

Jane looks at Maura too. "Are you having second thoughts?" she asks, her dark eyes searching Maura's face.

"What?" Maura answers, surprised. "No. Of course not, honey."

She presses Jane's hand between both of hers, and the other woman looks at her for a long moment before looking away.

"Okay," she says.

She doesn't sound convinced.

…

Aisha is in the waiting room when they emerge. She and Maura are working the night ER shift, and she's come to get Maura so that Jane can go directly home without dropping her off. Although she and Maura hug, she then turns and appraises Jane, and decides not to encroach on her personal space.

"I'm sorry," Aisha says. There is something about her tone that makes her sound genuine in all emotions. After the awkwardness of that morning in Maura's kitchen, Jane had warmed to her very quickly. Now she gives the doctors a tired, halfhearted smile.

"I'm…going to head out," she says quietly. "I'll see you in the morning, Mo."

Maura reaches out to pull Jane back as she walks away. She presses her lips to the corner of Jane's mouth.

"I love you," she whispers.

Jane holds on a little longer than normal, a little tighter. "I love you, too. See you at home."

And with a small wave at Aisha, she turns and strides out of the room.

Aisha waits until almost the end of the car ride, and then she appears to lose the internal battle with herself.

"Do you want to talk about it?" She asks, as though unable to help herself. "Is she okay? Are you okay? Is it over?"

Maura shakes her head, not because she means no, but because she has no idea how to answer any of her friend's questions, and anyway she is too choked up.

Aisha squeezes her knee, and doesn't ask anything more.

The night in the ER is mercifully slow, and 6:45 the next morning finds her sliding into bed next to Jane in only her underwear. She doesn't bother to put pajamas on.

Jane is on her side, facing away, and Maura inches up behind her, fitting herself into the shape that Jane's body has made.

"I'm home," she whispers softly. "I love you."

She is about to close her eyes and try to settle into sleep when Jane speaks, making her start.

"I'm sorry, Maura," Jane says quietly,

Maura props herself on her elbow as Jane rolls onto her back. "What?"

"I'm sorry. I... maybe it was selfish of me to want to try again." she finishes this sentence like a question, her cadence fading upwards at the end. "I never meant to hurt you."

Maura reaches out to cup Jane's face. "No," is all she can say for a long while. "No!"

She lifts the covers up and moves so that she is sitting on top of her girlfriend, straddling her. Jane's eyes wander down her chest.

"I thought..." she begins. "I thought you were mad at me. Today at the doctor. It took so long and then I fucked it up. And I just want use to...Jesus, is that the bra you wear to work? I can't concentrate!"

Maura leans down to catch Jane's eyes, not diverted "I could never be mad at you over this, Jane," she says clearly. "I was trying to let you process in your own time. If you want to try again, we'll try again. I'm worried about how you're handling the disappointment, but I love you. I love you so mu-"

This is as far as she gets. Jane presses up and kisses her, tentatively at first, and then harder when Maura responds at once. Here is another thing she is slow to get used to: that her body reacts to her girlfriend in ways she hadn't believed possible.

"I love you," she murmurs as Jane kisses along her jaw and down to her chest. "I love you. We can try again."

Jane bites at her collarbone. She pulls Maura closer, hand pressing against the middle of her back.

"I love you, too," she says, just this side of breathless.

She slips her hands up Maura's sides. "Can I?" Maura nods, and gets goosebumps at the feel of fingers on her ribcage, and then, suddenly, under her bra.

"God," she groans. "Jane."

"I need you," Jane rumbles. "I want to feel you. I kept thinking you wouldn't come home. That I didn't try hard enough to tell you how I was feeling, and you'd go and then what would I do? I just kept…I…fuck, you're so soft." Jane flips them.

She kisses Maura's neck, but her hands are already lower, slipping the doctor's hips out of her underwear.

"Okay? Too tired?"

Five minutes ago, Maura would have said that she _was_ too tired for this. Now her entire body is awake and on edge.

"Touch me," she whispers against Jane's ear. "God. Touch me."

Jane obliges, groaning as she does.

"You feel so good," she hums, making Maura squirm. She pushes two fingers inside her, pulls them out, and then presses back in. "So good," she repeats, and her lips are on Maura's shoulder, on her collarbone. They linger on the sensitive rise of a nipple.

Lower, lower, her fingers never stopping.

Maura is panting.

"I'm so close," she says, eyes shut tight.

Jane smiles against the inside of her thigh. "Me too," she growls. "Ready?"

Maura's answer is lost in her gasp as Jane's mouth replaces her fingers.

Her orgasm makes the world dim for a moment, like lights in a brown out. She feels Jane's hands on her hips, keeping her in place, drawing the feeling out until Maura can't take it anymore. She tugs gently on the hair wound around her fingers, and Jane makes her way up the doctor's body, kissing as she goes.

"I love you so much," Jane says softy. "You know that don't you?"

"And I love you," Maura murmurs back.

They should talk. Maura should force herself into full consciousness and they should have a real conversation about feelings, and futures, and fears.

But the night shift, combined with the power of her climax, is already pushing her toward slumber, and all she manages to do is roll into her girlfriend's arms, kissing the skin closest to her mouth sleepily.

"I'll hold you until I have to get up for work," Jane says. She pulls Maura tighter her, kissing her head.

"Jane," Maura tries, her mouth clumsy. "We should-"

"Hush," Jane says. "Right here."

Maura doesn't know if she manages an answer.

…

…

Jane and Angela fight.

Jane is gearing up to try again, working late at the precinct to close her open cases, and finish her paperwork, and although Angela could not be happier at the prospect of a grandchild, she is slow to warm to the idea of Maura's continued presence.

The comment that ignites the argument is a throwaway remark from the older Rizzoli. Another Sunday dinner is coming to an end, and Frankie, and Jane are clearing the table, while Maura and Angela linger over their coffee.

Tommy and Frank senior have both retired to Maura's living room, making good on the promise that if they "came and sat through dinner, they could watch the game on the 60inch television."

Both the doctor and the detective had been careful, during dinner, to steer the conversation towards safe topics: the weather, the job that Mayor Marty Walsh is doing, and the shopping that Angela hopes to get done before the holiday season is fully upon them.

But now that it is just the two of them, Angela falls into her favorite topic of conversation. Maura thinks she takes a perverse pleasure in their pregnancy struggles, as well as in the sadness she claims to feel at having no one for which to purchase tiny shoes.

"Jane's not so very old," Maura says now, smiling slightly as Jane snorts on her way to the kitchen with a serving dish. "She's thirty seven. Women have had children long after that age."

Angela nods. "I said that to Frank the other evening, and he said he didn't think it had anything to do with her age."

"Yes," Maura says, "It could be-"

"He says it might be God's way of letting the two of you know he doesn't totally approve."

For a moment, there is silence. Angela has made this declaration with a perplexing combination of boldness and regret, like she didn't quite believe it, but also could not restrain herself from saying it.

Maura does not feel anger at the statement, but rather a deep and resounding sadness at the other woman's need to press religion into a place where it doesn't belong.

"Enough," It's Jane who speaks first, striding out of the kitchen, dishtowel still over her shoulder. "That's enough now, Ma. You have to make a choice."

Her voice brings Tommy to the doorway between the living room and dining room, and Maura sees Frankie framed by the doorway to the kitchen.

"Jane," Angela begins, but the detective doesn't let her continue.

"No," says firmly. "You don't get to come into our house and say horrible shit like that. And what's worse, Ma, is that tomorrow, you'll call Maura and ask her a thousand questions about the nursery she's planning, like you never did anything wrong."

Angela's eyes are wide and wounded. "Well excuse me for being excited about the birth of my first-"

"But that's just it," Jane interrupts again. "That's why I'm telling you to make a choice. You can be happy that we're trying, or you can be devastated that we're defiling your religion, but you can't have it both ways!"

Behind her, Maura sees Frankie look impressed and amused.

"I'm not-" Angela tries again.

"Maura and I are going to be a family," Jane continues over her. "We want kids, and whether I have them, or she does, or we abduct a kid out of a stork's bundle, which is how you and Pop told me babies were born until I was _sixteen_!

"We're going to be parents. And you can be its loving, doting, wonderful Nona, or you can be my mother, who doesn't get to see her grandkid because she can't stop vomiting garbage."

Silence falls at the end of the speech, and Maura is about to try and say something to change the subject, when Tommy calls from the doorway.

"Wait, Ma, babies don't come from the stork?"

Frankie guffaws. "Come into the kitchen, little brother, I'll show you how our sisters are doing it. Hey, Jane, where's your turkey baster?"

Jane snorts, grinning, and she turns back to the kitchen, smacking Frankie in the back of the head as she goes.

Angela does not apologize that night, but it is also the last time she comments on Jane and Maura's relationship.

Maura takes this as a victory.

Though the argument with her mother seems to refocus Jane's determination regarding pregnancy, Maura still feels like the brunette is holding something back from her.

They go together to the insemination appointment, and when they are left alone in the exam room, Maura gives Jane an orgasm, pressing her forehead to her girlfriend's sweaty one at the moment the pleasure hits her, and murmuring how in love she is.

Jane's eyes fall shut, her breathing coming in short bursts. They've done this six times out of the nine they've been here, Jane finally overcoming her worry that they'd be walked in on.

"I love you, sweetness," Maura says now.

Jane's brow furrows. "Forever?"

Maura nods, caught a little bit off guard. "Yes," she says softly. She kisses Jane's cheek. "Forever."

Jane's eyes open, and Maura is just able to make out the question there before Dr. Hicks' gentle knock comes from the other side of the door.

Jane looks away, struggling to sit up, and Maura straightens her sweater.

…

It turns out that the 9th time's the charm. Jane gets pregnant, and she stays that way as the first six weeks tick by.

Eight weeks, Nine weeks, Ten.

In four days, they are going to have their first trimester checkup, and Maura decides that she can no longer postpone the discussion that she and Jane have been avoiding.

So she catches her girlfriend one morning, as she stares into the refrigerator, and turns her around so that they are eye to eye.

"Talk to me," she says firmly. "Tell me what's going on."

"Nothing's going on, Maura," Jane says, but she drops her eyes to the ground, a dead giveaway.

"You know, your tell may not be as visible or as itchy as my hives," Maura says with a little smile, "but I can tell when you are hiding things from me." She puts her arms around Jane's waist, rubbing her hands up to her shoulder blades and then back down. "Are you scared that this pregnancy isn't going to work out?"

"No!" Jane says quickly. "I mean, yes. But…it's not…It's nothing," Jane sighs deeply, though she doesn't pull away.

"I mean. We decided we wouldn't celebrate until we were absolutely sure, right? So there's no reason to be scared…or to be excited."

Maura tries to decipher the tone in her girlfriend's voice.

"We can be both," she says finally. "Just because we're still in a sort of limbo, doesn't mean-"

"I want to marry you." Jane mumbles the words as quickly as possible, cutting her off, and so for a moment, Maura is sure that she's misheard.

"What?"

Jane looks up at her, and then away, a smile tugs at her lips. "I want to marry you," she says more clearly. "I...want to spend the rest of my life with you, regardless of children."

Maura stares at the woman in front of her, trying to convince herself that what is happening is not a hallucination brought on by nerves and worry.

"I...want that too," she says after a moment. "But, why does that make you-"

"You do?" Jane searches her face. "You wouldn't resent me? For putting you through all of this?"

Maura puts her hands on either side of Jane's face so that she can't look away. "You," she says slowly. "Have not put me through anything."

Jane shakes her head as much as she can with the doctor restricting her movements. "What if I can't do it?" she asks. "What if I can't get pregnant? Will you still want to get married to me?"

Maura pulls her hands away, frowning. "What is this about?" she asks. "Have I ever given you any reason to doubt that I love you?"

Jane shakes her head. "No," She says. "I worry that I have."

Maura swallows the follow-up comment she'd had ready as Jane's words settle. She pushes Jane so that she is sitting on a stool in front of the breakfast bar, and then steps between her legs, draping her arms gently on her shoulders.

"What are you talking about?" she asks gently.

Jane sighs. "I…want to be a mother," Jane says quietly. "I…I feel like from the moment we got together, from the moment we realized that you and I really _have_ something, we've been talking about getting pregnant, or trying to get pregnant, or…losing a baby."

Maura nods, but she doesn't interrupt, because Jane's face is set in the expression she gets when articulation is hard, and Maura wants to hear this thought all the way to the end.

"You have been," Jane makes a vague gesture with her hands. "You _are_ so great. You're sweet, and sexy, and you pick me up every time something happens. You're right there, saying we can try again. Saying you don't blame me."

"I _don't-_ " Maura can't help herself.

"I know," Jane says, with a little headshake. "But," Jane pulls away from her and stands up. She reaches into the pocket of her jeans and pulls out a ring.

Maura feels her mouth drop open.

"I know," Jane repeats. "And when I got this, I had it in my head that…I'd get pregnant, I'd propose to you, and we'd live this happily ever after life that I'd never really thought was possible."

"Jane…"

"And then I lost the baby. And I saw it in your face when they told us. I saw how scared you were." Jane runs her free hand through her hair, eyes not leaving the ring. "I saw how scared you were, and I realized that you were scared of _me_. You thought that if I couldn't get pregnant again, that I'd begin to blame you for it. Even though I said I never would."

Maura crosses her arms over her chest, willing herself not to cry. She isn't sure if she's always been so transparent, or if no one has ever cared to look so closely before.

"And I thought, 'I don't deserve to marry this woman,'" Jane continues. She drops the ring down to her side. "I thought, 'I've done such a shitty job showing her how…even if we're both barren as hell, and Child Services refuses to even give us a seventeen year old who ages out in a month, that I want to spend my whole life with her."

Maura chokes out a laugh. "Child services has too many children to place to be so choosy as to not let us adopt a child," she says.

Jane grins at her. "This is the last one," she says. "This is the last try. If it doesn't…hold, we'll talk about something else." Jane shrugs. "Or we won't."

She holds the ring out to Maura, looking hopeful. "Or we'll _really_ talk about something else…like…what you'd wear?"

And Maura rushes to put her arms around Jane, pressing their lips together again and again, laughing until she has to turn away to wipe her tears.

"So you'll marry me?" Jane asks, grinning.

"Of course I will," Maura says. She puts her head on Jane's shoulder and lets the other woman sway them back and forth.

"Don't you know that you're everything in the world to me?" Jane says into her hair. "I'm gonna spend forever telling you that. You don't have to prove it to me by…holding out hope for a pregnancy when there might not be one."

And Maura holds tighter, shaking her head a little against Jane's collarbone. "I love you," she says.  
Jane hugs her, and then lifts her off her feet with a whoop of excitement.

"We're getting married!"

…

They go to their 10 week checkup and the 16week checkup, and both times they ask not to be told anything except that the pregnancy is still progressing normally.

They arrive for their scheduled 20 week checkup, and as Jane climbs grudgingly into the stirrups, she tells Maura that she hopes they don't get the same ultrasound technician from their first two appointments.

"I don't know if it was her first day or what, but she looked queasy both times, remember?"

Maura nods thoughtfully. "Maybe she was nervous," she offers. "Our chart must show the majority of our history."

Jane grunts, but doesn't get to say anything else, because the door opens at that moments, and Dr. Hicks steps in.

She's holding Jane's chart, and she looks more cheerful than Maura can remember seeing her.

"Hello, you two," she says brightly. "I'll be doing your ultrasound today. I hope that's agreeable."

Jane looks about as pale and nervous as Maura feels. "What's wrong?" she asks immediately. "What did my bloodwork say? Is something wrong? Should we have come back sooner?"

"Breathe, Jane," Dr. Hicks says, pressing her hand to the gentle swell of Jane's stomach. "Everything looks just fine. You're maybe a little underweight, but that's nothing a couple helpings of pasta can't fix."

"Underweight?" Maura questions, stepping up to take Jane's hand. "She's only twenty weeks. She's maybe even a little overweight for that stage."

"Thank you, _darling_ ," Jane deadpans.

Dr. Hicks laughs. "No, you're right, Maura. Jane would be considered a bit overweight for this stage in pregnancy."

"Um, Guys? Can we stop saying that I'm overweight?" Jane asks. "I'm on my back, my pants have elastic, and I'm feeling a little vulnerable."

Maura puts her free hand absently on Jane's head. "I'm sorry," she says. "Then I'm afraid I don't understand."

And if possible, Dr. Hicks' smile grows even wider.

"Jane is considered underweight in this case because she's pregnant with triplets."


	9. Nine

_At first, the camera is unsteady, and takes a moment to focus, but when it does, there is Jane, sitting on the end of the bed. She is dressed in only long t-shirt and boxer shorts, and her hair is done up in a bun that is clearly several days old. She is also very,_ _very_ _pregnant._

" _I think I've got it now," comes Maura's voice from behind the camera. "The red light is going, and I can see you."_

" _Great," Jane says grumpily. "Because our hard drive is full enough of videos of your thumb. Or the wall...three and a half hours of the chair cushion."_

 _With an effort that seems Herculean, Jane pushes herself up to standing. From this angle, she looks even more pregnant than she had previously._

" _You didn't seem to mind when it recorded several minutes of my cleavage yesterday."_

 _Jane puts a hand to her hair, seemingly to feel whether or not her bun is still in place. It is not, and she must be able to feel that it is not, but she doesn't seem to care. She shrugs, and moves the hand to the small of her back._

" _God, My back hurts."_

" _Jane is thirty weeks pregnant today. She's feeling a bit impatient."_

" _A bit?" Jane snorts. "I'm going to reach in and forcibly remove these three if they don't get out of there soon."_

" _She isn't serious," Maura says. She sounds as though she's smiling. "She knows how important it is that our triplets stay in utero as long as possible. Premature births are high among pregnancies where multiples are being carried. The age of the mother is also-"_

" _Who are you talking to?" Jane grumbles, turning to look at the camera._

" _I'm narrating the moment," Maura says. "All the different literature I've been reading says that these last few weeks go by much too quickly, and that we'll want movies and videos to look back on."_

" _If you peed a little every time you swallowed, you wouldn't think these weeks were flying by, Maura," Jane retorts sourly._

 _The camera watches her waddle into the bathroom and shut the door, and then swings around to show three bassinets lined up against the wall._

" _I put these together myself," Maura's voice says proudly. "That's what I really wanted to document. Jane fell asleep on the couch, and I was able to complete two and a half of them before she woke up. I knew she'd been dreading having to kneel and reach in her current condition, even though she hadn't said anything about it. When she saw that I was almost finished, she burst into tears."_

 _The camera gives a close up of each little crib, one purple, one green, and one orange. "The Doctor says two of you are boys. She says the statistical safe bet is two boys and a girl, because of the sizes. So here, green in the middle, that will be Benjamin, Purple, over here is for you, beautiful girl. And orange down here, that's for our little Franklin."_

 _There is a pause. Maura takes a deep breath._

" _Looking at all of this. Seeing all of these things ready and waiting, it makes it feel real. What I mean to say is. I get more excited to see our children every single day."_

" _I get more excited to see my toes again every single day," says Jane's voice behind the camera._

 _The picture spins to focus on the detective, leaning against the doorframe, smiling._

" _Jane!" Maura's voice says. "You were able to get off of the toilet by yourself this time!"_

 _Jane's smile immediately drops into one of embarrassment and surprise. "Maura!" She says, moving towards the camera as fast as possible._

" _Turn it off!"_

 _There is some scrabbling, some laughing, definitely the sound of kissing, and then the screen goes black._

…

…

A woman is standing on her front porch when Maura comes up the walk. She is moving quickly, keen to get home and relieve Jane of solo triplet duty, and so she doesn't notice her mother until she is almost at the bottom of her steps.

She looks up, and almost drops her handbag at the sight of Constance Isles about to ring her door.

"Don't" she cries out before she can stop herself.

Constance whirls around, alarmed. "Maura?" She asks, hand going to her heart. "What on earth?"

"It's almost half past," Maura says, climbing the four steps to her porch hastily. "If Jane managed to get them down, they'll still be napping. Benji and Franklin don't wake up at the sound of the bell, but Isis has the ears of a cat. And if she wakes up, Benji is up too."

Constance stares at her, and it is hard to tell how well she is processing this influx of information.

Finally she speaks. "Franklin after your father?" She asks.

"Ah, yes," Maura answers, caught off guard. "Well, Franklin after father, and also because it works to call him Frankie after Jane's brother."

Constance nods, but doesn't reply, and for a long moment, they just stand there looking at each other.

"What are you doing here, mother?" Maura asks at last. She cannot invite this woman into her house without knowing her motives. Not only because there is most likely a stressed out detective on the other side of the door, but also because she has not seen or heard directly from her mother in over four years.

"I...read your recent interview for the forensic journal out of Boston," Constance says hesitantly. "The one in which you describe the science that helped you and - ah - Detective Rizzoli solve the Platski case. It showed you in a very favorable light."

Maura blinks. "Thank you," she says hesitantly. "Jane did most of the work. I just pointed her in the right direction."

"Yes. You mentioned that in your interview," Constance says. There is a flash of something like distaste, but Maura sees her make an effort to cover it. "You've always downplayed your abilities."

Maura doesn't want to keep standing here, not helping her wife or kissing her children after she's been away from home for forty eight hours, but she doesn't want to trail her mother into the house if she's going to keep looking as though she's smelled something unpleasant.

"So you traveled all the way from Prague to tell me that I should not bother with modesty?" Maura asks. She smiles grimly when her mother looks surprised.

"Yes," she says, answering the unasked question. "I know where you've been. I usually know which country you are in, Mother, or which lecture you've been invited to. You are the one who ended our communication. Not me."

Constance looks both hurt and guilty. "It...came as a shock," she murmurs, looking away as though she knows that this is not an adequate excuse.

"I wrote you," Maura says, feeling her emotions begin to get the best of her. "I wrote you, and called you. I came to your hotel when you were in New York, and had to deal with the humiliation of being told that you would have me removed if I did not leave. I sent you the wedding invitation, and the shower invitation. _Jane_ sent you the birth announcement, which it seems that you didn't even read." Maura shakes her head, not wanting to have this fight. "Is it so odd that I might at least know _where_ my mother is, despite her wish that I not contact her?"

"No," Constance says. She answers the rhetorical question out of habit. "I...No. You're right of course. I was shocked, and then frightened, and I acted in...haste and anger. It was wrong of me."

Maura frowns. "It is too late for reconciliation," she says simply. "Just tell me why you're here so that we can be done, and I can go inside to my family."

Constance flinches at this, but Maura does not feel remorse, only frustration.

"The article I read," Constance says quietly. "It said that you are expecting another child. _You_. Not your -ah - not the detective. It said that you had just announced your pregnancy."

This is what Maura had feared from the moment she saw her mother standing in front of her door.

She'd called the magazine as soon as she'd read the article herself, and though they'd been kind enough to re-publish the online version, and pull those magazines that had not sold, there was only so much they'd been able to do.

News of her pregnancy had reached Constance.

"Yes," she says now, deciding that there's no reason not to meet this head on. "Jane and I talked about it, and decided to try once. I wanted to carry a child, and she knew that." Maura smiles, despite herself.

"We got lucky."

"You were only going to try that one time?" Constance asks, and Maura remembers suddenly that she is standing on her front porch with a suitcase in her hand, talking to a woman that has wanted nothing to do with her for four years.

"Why are you here?" She asks.

"I...want to meet my grandchildren," she says finally. "All of them. I want to...try to be a part of your life. I realized, when I read that article, that I had been...That I'd allowed the way I was raised to color my opinion of your life."

"You can't just show up here, like this," Maura says.

Constance nods. "I didn't mean to," she says earnestly. "I...meant only to drive by and make sure that the address I'd found was correct. But I saw your," she pauses. "I saw Detective Rizzoli coming up the walk with the children."

"Jane," Maura interrupts. "My wife. _Our_ children."

Constance looks pained. "Yes," she says. "And I...couldn't leave."

"So don't leave then."

Maura spins toward the voice to see that Jane has opened the screen door. She's holding a sleepy eyed Isis on her hip, and never one to leave his sister on her own, Benji is peeking out from behind Jane's pant leg.

"Who's that Isis?" Jane asks, grinning at Maura. "Who's home?"

"Mommy!" Benji says first, leaping over the door jamb and into Maura's arms. "Mommy home!"

He smells like baby powder and soup and corn chips, and she presses her nose into his curly blonde hair, hugging him close.

Behind Jane, down the hall just a bit, is Franklin. "Mommy?" He looks up excitedly from the toy car he'd been pushing along the floor, and when he sees her, he stands up on his spindly toddler legs and runs at her.

Jane gestures Constance across the threshold and into the hall, pulling the door closed before Franklin can make it all the way there.

"Mommy!" Franklin says, hugging her knee. "Oh Mommy! So _happy!_ "

Jane leans forward to kiss her. "Oh Mommy!" She echoes. " _So_ _happy!_ "

Maura laughs.

…

…

 _Isis won't eat._

 _Jane leans back in the armchair where she normally feeds the triplets, and presents herself to her daughter's mouth._

 _Isis merely turns her head to the side, uninterested, looking up at her mother with calm brown eyes._

" _C'mon, magic bean," Jane says softly. "I know you gotta be hungry. You were screaming your head off just a minute ago. And your brother is starving. Hear him?"_

 _Isis sighs, as though she understands. She considers Jane's nipple, and then she starts to fuss, pressing her little hands against her mother's breastbone._

 _In his bassinet. Benji howls. He sounds so enraged, that after another three minutes of trying to get Isis to latch, she gives up, standing and switching out children, settling back with Benji._

 _He begins to nurse right away, and in their bassinets, both of the other babies are quiet._

 _Maura glances in on them on her way down the hall, and seeing Jane's frown, steps into the room._

" _Are you okay?"_

" _I thought Isis was hungry," Jane says, still frowning at the two quiet bassinets._

 _Maura pauses for a moment. "You're nursing Benji," she says finally._

 _Jane rolls her eyes. "Thank you, Dr. Obvious," she says sarcastically. "But that's what I mean. Isis was yelling for food. I show up, get her all set up, and she doesn't want anything. Then Benji starts in, so I switch out, and now...those two?" Jane points with her free hand. "Nothing."_

 _Maura considers this. "Are you sure it was Isis crying?" She asks._

 _Jane spares her a deep look of disdain. "I know which child is wailing," she says. "And I know what they're asking for. Isis wanted food. It was her 'feed me' cry."_

 _Maura watches them for a little bit longer, and then she shrugs, as though it doesn't matter._

 _Benji stops nursing, seemingly finished, and as soon as she has brought the little boy to her shoulder to burp him, Isis begins to cry again._

 _Maura turns back, looking surprised._

 _Jane smirks like, "I told you so," and holds Benji to her. "Burp this giant man, hmm?"_

 _Maura takes Benjamin to her shoulder. She watches, perplexed, as the situation that Jane described repeats itself, but this time with Franklin._

 _Isis cries for food, but seems uninterested in eating. As soon as Jane tries to nurse her, Franklin begins to cry._

 _Jane swaps again, and settles in with her second little boy. She looks up at Maura, eyebrows raised._

 _Maura simply shakes her head, just as confused._

 _Isis doesn't cry again until Franklin is being burped. And this time, when Jane settles into position with her, she nurses hungrily._

 _Jane and Maura stare at each other, both thinking the same thing, but neither wanting to voice it._

 _Benji and Franklin have their heads on Maura's shoulders, content._

" _Neither one of them cried for food?" Maura asks._

 _Jane shakes her head. "Just Isis."_

 _Until that moment, Maura has written off the tales of multiples with telepathy, and secret connections into each other's brains._

 _Now, she is not quite sure._

…

…

The triplets skirt their unexpected visitor with a combination of curiosity and caution. They discuss her among themselves with their unique method of babbling, hand gestures and facial expressions, and Maura watches Constance watching them, amused by the older woman's fascination.

Jane comes to stand next to her in the doorway of the kitchen.

"I told Frost this would happen," she says quietly.

Maura looks at her. "Hmm?"

"Yesterday. I swear," Jane says. "I told him that if anyone got the first printing of that article, it would be your mother, and that she would show up here, looking for the heirs to the Isles throne."

Maura doesn't smile. "She says she wants to get to know them."

"Do you want her to get to know them?" Jane asks, and when Maura turns to look at her, she raises her eyebrows. "What? It's a valid question. If you want her to get to know them, then I say we see how it goes. Only if it's not going to stress you, or anybody in there," she gestures to Maura's stomach.

"She ignored us, _and them_ , for four years, Jane. What I want might be irrelevant."

Jane shrugs. "I don't think so. You know how my mom was when we first started, how she still is sometimes. I'm not saying that she doesn't drive me absolutely batshit insane sometimes, no way! But I also know that without her around, I would miss her. Our kids would miss out on a lot of really great things."

Maura shakes her head, and Jane wraps her arms around her waist, kissing her temple. "You don't have to stop being mad at her, or even forgive her. I just want to know - if it were a possibility to have her be involved and loving and...make amends. Would you want it?"

In the living room, the triplets have come to a decision about their course of action. As Maura watches, Benji walks cautiously towards his Grandmother, lip pulled comically between his teeth.

"Hi," he says, when he's close enough. He is a man of few words, usually letting Isis or Franklin do the talking for him, but when it comes to the protection of his siblings, he takes his job as seriously as Jane does.

"Hello," Constance says, looking down at him with raised eyebrows. "What's - uh - what is your name?"

"Benjamin," Benji says seriously. "I'm three and in days I'm four soon."

"It's nice to meet you, Benjamin," Constance says.

Benji points to his sister and brother, still hanging back, although Franklin has taken a couple of steps forward. "My brudder," he says. "Frankly. And Sitter. Isis."

Jane smiles. "Frankly," she echoes. "It never gets old."

"Isis," Constance is saying. "What a nice name."

"It means magic," Franklin says, taking another step forward. "One time I wa'nt breathing, but then she did."

Constance looks up at Maura, eyes wide.

"Time to decide," Jane says in her ear. "Do I go in there as a daughter-in-law, or as a cop."

Maura has already decided.

"I want her to know them," she murmurs. "I want to see if she'll try."

…

…

 _They get married ten days after the triplets have turned one. Angela and Frankie spend almost an hour wrangling all three babies into formal wear, and they meet Jane and Maura at city hall, where they are joined by Frost, Korsak Susie and a couple of other friends._

 _It is quick, and sweet, and when Jane says 'I do,' Maura can tell that what she's really saying is 'trust me.'_

 _Angela cries, and although it is a certain possibility that all of her tears might not be happy ones, she hugs Maura during their reception across the street, and tells her that she couldn't imagine anyone making Jane happier than Maura has._

 _They feed their triplets wedding cake during the party, and Maura takes Jane's hand as they watch what is now a very common routine._

" _Benji's just the cutest little gentleman, isn't he?" Susie says, watching as Benji pushes cake pieces at his two siblings._

 _He is the oldest by nineteen and one hundred and seventy two minutes respectively, and already he is the taste tester, the muscle, the protector._

 _Franklin is his body double, and his personality opposite, and Isis, still tiny and delicate, with black hair to her brothers' dark blonde, and brown eyes to her brothers' light blue, is the mastermind. The beloved._

 _True to his title, Benji tastes his cake first. His eyes go wide and surprised, and then his face cracks into excitement._

 _His siblings don't need to be told that everything is okay. They dig in, and only when they have all had their first taste of sugar, do their little hands raise into the air in triumph._

 _Their first sugar high._

 _Huzzah!_

 _Isis cries and cries, until Maura breaks down and gives them all another little helping of cake._

 _Both boys wait for Isis to start before they do._

 _Maura is over her disbelief that her children are connected. Proof piles up every day._

 _Their sex that night is interrupted four times, each time by Isis, calling first because Franklin is wet, and then again because Franklin is twisted in his sheet._

 _She calls for Benji, who's stuffed kitten has fallen to the floor, and then for herself, when her pacifier get stuck between mattress and bed bar. They have named her Isis for her near death experience at birth, but now Maura thinks that her daughter is magic in other ways too._

 _Jane laughs, naked, holding her infant on her shoulder, kissing her dark little head in a gentle rhythm as she fits the pacifier back into her mouth._

" _Sleep now, magic bean," she says, laying her back down. "I just got hitched, and I'm trying to get laid. You are seriously crimping my game."_

 _As soon as she is done, Maura pulls Jane back into their bedroom to finish what they started. She doesn't bother telling her new wife that seeing her as a mother is_ _definitely_ _not hurting anything._

…

…

Isis doesn't warm up to Constance until Maura does. Benji and Franklin, having decided that she is okay, bring her many of their toys for her inspection, and after some coaching from Jane, Maura's mother learns to say things like, 'oh how lovely!' And 'That is amazing!' In order to earn a little boy smile and a tiny bit more of their affection.

"So where are you staying, Constance?" Jane asks, as she hands her a cup of coffee.

Constance nods a thank you. "The Liberty in Back Bay," she answers.

"Are you in town for long?"

"Ah," Constance looks like she'd rather have the small talk of dinner back. "How long I stay actually depends on several factors," she says slowly.

Isis climbs into Maura's lap, thumb in her mouth, and Constance watches as Maura kisses the top of her head.

"I do have several events to attend in Boston and Springfield. But I was hoping to…" she pauses again, steeling herself. "I was hoping to stay a bit longer than necessity required in order to spend some time with you and your children."

Constance swallows visibly.

"And you as well, Jane." She says finally.

Jane raises her eyebrows. "Really?" She asks genuinely.

"Yes," Constance says. "I...can understand if that doesn't appeal to you, Detective. I haven't treated you kindly in the past."

Jane puts her arm around Maura's shoulder, giving her a squeeze. "Actually," she says. "You've treated Maura unkindly. You haven't treated me in any way at all."

This doesn't seem to have occurred to Constance, and as the realization washes over her, she looks...sad.

"You're right," she says. "I apologize for that."

Jane squeezes Maura again. "Thanks," she says simply.

Franklin wanders over to his grandmother. "Hey you!" He says to her.

"Um...Mr. Rizzoli-Isles?" Jane interjects quickly.

Franklin turns to her, guiltily. "Well. What _is_ her name?" He asks, exasperated.

Jane hesitates, and Maura knows that Jane is deferring to her.

"That's your grandmother," Maura says, smiling at her. "That's my mother."

Franklin nods, taking the monumental moment in stride. "Kay," he says, turning back to Constance. "Hey!" He says, exuberance returned. "Grandmother!"

"Really, Frankie?" Jane calls, trying not to laugh. "How do you ask for someone's attention."

Benji, who's attention has been caught by the reprimanding tone of Jane's voice, looks at Franklin.

"Ah-scuse" he says, pronouncing the word more like a sneeze, than a polite request.

Maura chuckles. Franklin heaves a sigh.

"Well, _ah-scuse_ me," he says. "Want to come look at the tower? We builded it."

Constance looks at Maura and Jane, and when both nod, she stands. She looks overwhelmingly excited.

"I bet you and your brother built a wonderful tower," she says.

Franklin smiles, reaching for her hand to lead her the ten feet. "Yah," he says. "The best."

.

Later, Maura walks Constance to the door, Isis still on her hip. "It was nice to see you, Mother," she says, pulling the door open.

Constance studies her face. "Was it?" She asks genuinely. "I hope you know I didn't mean to ambush you, Maura. I had a letter in mind. Something...oh, something heartfelt, I hoped."

Maura smiles wryly. "I would not have read it," she says honestly. "This was better, I think. In the long run."

Constance considers this, and then nods, accepting. "I hope you will keep me updated?" She asks hopefully. "About your pregnancy. If there's anything I can do to help with the new baby. I'd...well I'd like to learn how to be of help."

Isis lifts her head, but doesn't say anything. Maura knows what she's thinking.

"Well," she says slowly, and Constance watches her with ill disguised anticipation. "Well, I think, Mother, there's something you should know before you go."

"Yes?" Constance asks nervously.

"My pregnancy...it's...well. It's twins."

Blank shock. Constance stares at her. "What?"

"I'm having twins," Maura says.

"When rains, it pours," Isis says softly. It's Jane's favorite statement about their situation.

For a moment, Constance just looks between them, dumbstruck. And then she starts to laugh. She puts her hand over her heart and laughs fully and loudly.

"Oh," she says, stepping forward to pull Maura and Isis into her arms. "Oh, my dear, congratulations!"

It takes Maura a startled minute to react. "T-thank you," she says. "I...it was a shock for us, but now we're just...we're overjoyed."

Constance pulls back. "As well you should be!" She says. "When do you discover the sex?" She asks.

"Two weeks," Maura says, and then. "Would you like to be there? Angela will be."

"Are you sure?" Constance looks as though she doesn't know what to do with all of the emotions she's experiencing. "I wouldn't want to intrude."

"Well, not into the actual ultrasound room," Maura concedes. "But you'll be the first to see the sonogram pictures, and hear the sexes. If you can manage to out maneuver Angela, of course."

Constance's smile is radiant. "Send me the date," she says, turning away once again, "And I shall practice my footwork diligently until then." She descends the front steps, and Maura sees a black town car parked down the block start its engine.

"Good-bye, Mother," she calls.

"Good-bye, Maura. I'll see you soon."

Isis lifts her head again, and then she waves. "Bye Gramma," she calls.

Constance is never known as anything else.


	10. The End

By the time the twins have turned four, anyone familiar with the Rizzoli-Isles children simply call them 'the quints.' If the triplets made Maura doubt the impossibility of telepathy, then the twins leave her without any doubt.

Lise is born first, but Tycho is right behind her, barely giving the midwife a chance to resume her post for delivery. From that moment on, they are never anywhere without the other. When the triplets discover them, later that afternoon, Isis asks to be lifted to the glass for a closer inspection. She peers down at her new siblings for a long time.

"Okay," she says, and when Jane sets her down, she turns to her brothers, both waiting anxiously for her opinion.

"We will love them," she says, her imperious tone slightly undermined by the fact that she pronounces the word _love_ as _wuv._

"We will love them," she tells her brothers, who nod seriously. And from that moment on, they do.

So they are dubbed the quints, and once they are all mobile, it's rare to see any of them without at least three of the others.

Benji and Franklin, pudgy, good-natured four year-olds when the twins are born, grow into solid, energetic little boys, with a love for the Boston Red Sox and all things mud related. Isis grows too, though she worries her parents in her fifth year by not gaining one single pound. She eats like a trucker and stretches like Gumby, and just when Jane is ready to cave on more tests, on subjecting her daughter to endless bloodwork and CAT scans, she turns six and puts on fourteen pounds in under a month.

In contrast to their siblings, Lise and Tycho stay within a pound of each other for the first four years of their lives. They both have the same blonde hair and grey-green eyes, and if Ty didn't prefer to let his hair grow long, and if Lise didn't insist on something short and hassle free, many people would have trouble telling them apart.

They hit milestones in the same fashion. Lise learns to walk first, but Ty has it by the end of the day. Lise is the first to escape from her crib, but she waits patiently for the forty five minutes it takes for Tycho to tumble out after her.

The five of them rumble through playgrounds and grocery stores. They go as a group to friend's birthday parties, or the one who is invited refuses to go at all, and Jane falls into the habit of purchasing an additional cake to send along with her gaggle of children. As soon as the twins are old enough, they begin to sleep in bunches, and although the boys have their own room, and the girls theirs, it is impossible to say who will end up where by morning.

They scream and fight and throw things at each other.

They put stickers all over Maura's tortoise, and for a month an a half, Jo Friday has two front paws with sparkly silver nail polish. Benji carries Lise on his back in the park when she is tired. Lise gives him her last goldfish cracker. They fight over a Bubble Guppies episode in the car on the way home, and fall asleep that night in the same bed, holding hands.

Isis and Tycho become so close it is as if they share a brain. They are both slight, and sly, and they have inherited the detectives propensity for sarcasm and sass. They hide from their frantic Nona in a Costco for hours, until she gives up and calls the doctor, who orders her children out with the frosty voice and terrifying glare that only an Isles can muster.

Constance does try to make good on her promise. She is never away for more than a month, and she sends lavish gifts that get less breakable and more appropriate with time.

She arrives in a whirl of brightly colored boxes and cashmere coats on the Christmas that the twins turn three. And when Lise appraises her with Maura's intense hazel eyes, Constance looks back with awe, and lets herself be studied.

"My brother's name is pronounced Tie - co," she says, without preamble. When Jane opens her mouth to correct her, Constance raises her hand to stop her. She nods at Lise.

"Alright," she says.

"He is used to people sayin wrong ways. But I will get mad if you do it, Gramma."

Constance's mouth twitches the smallest bit. "I understand," she says seriously. "Lise and Tycho. I wouldn't dream of getting it wrong."

Lise nods, her face cracking open into a smile. It is only after Constance makes this promise, that Lise and Tycho come forward to hug her hello.

Maura feels like crying, until Jane puts her arms around her waist from behind and says into her ear that every single moment of the past 24 hours has surpassed the previous one to become her favorite.

Then she does cry.

…

Sometimes, when the kids are all out of the house and Jane is engrossed in a case file, or a game on television, Maura will go into her study, and pull down the only book in the house that has never been read. The cover of _What to Expect When You're Expecting_ is still bright yellow, it's spine is still perfectly intact. The picture of Jane's first baby girl is still tucked away inside, just before week twelve. It's joined now by the sonogram of the second child they lost, and Aisha's letter.

"I would have named her Harper," Jane told Maura once, when they were discussing names for their triplets. "The baby I...well...I would have called her Harper."

By then, Maura had purchased a new copy of the pregnancy book. She'd been ready with the excuse that they should use the most updated copy, but Jane had never asked where hers had gone to. Maura doesn't know if Jane is aware that it's here, but she thinks she is. She thinks sometimes, that when she pulls it down, the letter from Aisha has moved forward or back a couple of pages.

The thought of Jane mirroring her actions on her own slow days makes Maura smile. on the days when things are quiet, and no one is around to see her, Maura will pull these things down from the highest shelf in her study, and look through them. She will draw her finger around the curve of Harper's little head, and she will think of all the things she would tell her daughter were she here with them today.

But usually, the only thing she says aloud is, _thank you._

…

…

Maura is bustling around her office, trying to finish up the last of her work so that she can make it home on time. She'd promised Jane that she would be home in time to help set up for the party, and wrangle the children into their semi-formal wear.

The phone rings just as she shuts off her computer, and for a moment, she considers not answering. She is not technically on the clock, and any medical intake matters should go to the doctor taking over for her.

And then she sighs, and picks up the phone.

"Dr. Isles," she says.

"Dr. Isles," an unfamiliar female voice answers. "I'm glad I caught you."

"Who am I speaking with?" Maura resists the urge to groan.

"My name is Kelly Washington. I work with Ada McManus?"

The name causes a bolt of panic to run up Maura's spine before she really knows why.

"She was your legal counsel during the Fairfield trial?" Kelly says this as though it is a question.

Maura sits down heavily in her seat. "I remember," is all she can say.

"Ada's partially retired these days, so I've taken over many of her cases, including yours. I wanted to reach out to you to let you know that Mr. Fairfield is going to be eligible for parole within the next three weeks."

Maura stares at the wood grain of her desk, trying to attach an emotion to the moment. "I see," she says.

"I know this might come as a shock, Doctor. My intention is not to alarm you. I wanted to alert you to the possibility that he might soon be a free man again. I also wanted to inform you of your rights."

The first sentence is too much for Maura to think about, and so she attaches herself to the second.

"Rights?"

"Yes. You have the right to speak at his Parole hearing, either for or against his release. Should he be granted his freedom, you also have the right to file for an order of protection. That would extend to you and your immediate family, of course."

"My wife is the detective he shot."

She doesn't know what makes her say this, other than blank shock, and the desire to make herself feel something. _Anything._ And the sentence seems to force feeling back into her fingers.

"My wife is the woman he shot. She almost died protecting me."

There is a slight pause. Maura can hear the rustling of papers. "I...I'm sorry, Dr. Isles," Kelly Washington says quietly. "I wasn't aware."

"She lost a child," Maura continues, anger rising. "Did you know that? He killed her daughter that day."

"I...was aware that she..." Kelly trails off. "But I had no idea…."

"When is the hearing?" Maura asks.

"It hasn't been officially scheduled yet. He's only put in the motion to petition this morning."

"So I will have time to discuss this with Jane. And you and I will have time to meet as well?"

"Of course," Kelly sounds both surprised and impressed. "I...wasn't sure you wanted-"

"I do," Maura says firmly. "Very much. However, today is my tenth wedding anniversary. We're having a party, and my family is expecting me, so I cannot discuss this now."

"Oh!" Kelly makes a noise like she's swallowed an ice cube whole. "I'm so sorry, Dr. Isles. I had no idea. I mean, obviously, I had no...please! Go enjoy your party. And congratulations."

"I'm back in the office on Tuesday morning. Will you please call me then so that we can set up a meeting?"

"Of course," Kelly says, breathless. "Of course."

"Thank you."

When she has hung up the phone, Maura sits in the office for almost twenty minutes, listening to the bustle just outside her office, and trying to get her thoughts to stop buzzing through her mind.

Finally, she stands, reaching blindly for her coat. Today is a happy day, she tells herself. And I will be happy. I will go home to my wife and my children, and we will celebrate the last ten, amazing years.

She walks toward her office door, looking down at her watch.

And then she runs.

…

…

Angela is already at the house when Maura arrives. Lise and Benji are in the dining room, the younger girl perched on her brother's shoulders, attempting to throw a streamer over the chandelier.

"Mommy!" Franklin is the first to reach her and hug her. "Happy Wedding Day!" he says. He is almost to her shoulder now, and she kisses the top of his fluffy head.

The mantra she'd been repeating to herself for the drive: _I will be happy. I will not ruin the party. We will talk about it later,_ is suddenly much easier to believe.

Angela hugs her too. "Happy anniversary, dear," she says happily. "You're a little late."

"She got held up, Nona." That's Isis, coming to hug her mother too. She is always on Maura's side, usually without even knowing the argument.

"Yeah! She's a doctor. She's pretty important." Benji. As devoted to Isis as Isis is to Maura.

"You two," Angela says, brushing off the reprimand. She steps around Maura to inspect the streamers in the dining room. "It looks lovely."

"Thanks," Lise says. "Mommy? When is cake?"

Tycho, on the couch with Jo Friday on his chest looks up from his comic book. "Cake?" he asks. "Hi Mommy!"

 _I am happy._ Maura thinks. It is the truth.

"Hello, loves. The dining room does look wonderful, and you all look wonderful. Has anyone else arrived yet?"

"Auntie Eesha is here," Lise says. "She and mama are 'n the kitchen."

"Jesse?"

Benji makes a face, and Franklin explains it. "Out _drivin_ with some _girl_." he says.

Maura laughs. She kisses Lise, and then manages to get her lips to Isis' cheek before the girl squirms away, and then heads down the hall to the kitchen.

She can hear Aisha's voice as she draws closer, and she is about to call out and announce her presence, but what Aisha's voice says makes her stop dead. "You know I hated you so, so much, right?"

To Maura's immense surprise, she hears Jane chuckle. "Yeah," she replies easily. "I know. From the moment I was mobile."

Maura steps closer to the doorway, taking care to keep her heels from making any noise.

"Yeah," Aisha says, and without being able to see her face, it is impossible to tell what she is thinking. Is this a joke? Jane certainly doesn't seem very concerned.

"Actually a little before that. I hated the way she came to check on you when you weren't awake. I hated the way she looked at you."

Maura envisions Jane nodding. "Understandable," She says, still sounding completely at ease. "And I didn't exactly make a point of trying to make you feel better.

"Hardly. You dragged her through nine rounds of insemination."

So, it isn't a joke. Maura stands paralyzed in the hallway. How long has her best friend hated her wife? And how is it possible that they both could have kept this information from her?

"I made it up to her. And it was worth it. Even you have to admit that."

"You shouldn't have to make things up to her," Aisha's voice drops low, almost to a growl.

"I know," Jane says. "I know."

And who is this submissive Jane? Maura doesn't think she's ever seen her be so quick to mollify anyone.

"You don't deserve her."

This makes Maura pull in a sharp breath, and she almost misses Jane's answer.

"No one does."

Aisha makes a noise that Maura recognizes as one that the doctor makes when she is pleased with the progress her patient is making.

"I love her so, so much, Aisha. I never expected this to be my life."

They are silent for long enough that Maura thinks they aren't going to say any more. And then Aisha continues, sounding unsure for the first time.

"I met someone," she says.

Jane pauses. "A romantic someone?"

"You know I don't do romance," Aisha grumbles. Maura smiles. She expects to feel hurt that Aisha is sharing this with Jane, and not her, but the hurt doesn't come.

"Well," Jane says after a moment. "If you did do romance. I would tell you that you couldn't choose a better person. Period."

"He's good with my son."

"You've seen him with mine," Jane says. "And I trust him with my life, with the life of anyone in my family."

Maura has to suppress another gasp. Frost. They have to be talking about Barry Frost.

The young detective has not come with Aisha to any event that Maura can remember, and although he always greets her and her son warmly when he sees them, nothing about their interactions has suggested a relationship more intimate than casual friends.

"...trustworthy as hell," Jane is saying, when Maura comes back to the conversation. "Not even I could make him tell something that he'd promise to keep in confidence."

When Aisha answers, Maura thinks she might be smiling. "You're just that good a detective?"

Jane snorts. "I notice things," she says. And then, more seriously. "I pay attention, Aisha."

"I know you do."

"Do you?" Jane sounds hopeful. Genuine. "I know that I'm not...That I don't…" Maura can see Jane's hands in her mind's eye, trying to make up for her inability to speak. "They are everything to me."

And this time Aisha's voice is soft, tender even. "I know, Jane," she answers. "You have never given me any reason to hate you. You've known it since the second we spoke after your first night with her, and you never even breathed so much of a word to her. I should have stopped hating you in that moment."

"I love you too, you know," Jane says softly. "And Jesse. You're both family too."

There is something about this silence that lets Maura know the conversation has come to its end. She is about to sneak back down the hall to the party, when two small arms close around her legs.

"Mommy!" Ty has found her, and it is useless to tell her most exuberant, most excitable child to be quiet.

"Hello, honey," she says bending to pick him up. He is six, quickly outgrowing her arms, and she takes any chance she can.

"I want juice!" he says, and when she just raises her eyebrows, he bestows her with the devilish, charming grin of her wife.

"I want juice...please," he amends." And she kisses his cheek, and steps into the kitchen, hoping she's given the two women enough time to compose themselves.

Jane looks almost normal, and by the time she sweeps Ty out of Maura's arms and promises him the "best pickle juice in town," no one would be able to tell that anything odd had happened.

Aisha, on the other hand, keeps her back to Maura until the last moment, and when she turns around, there are still tears glittering in her eyes.

Maura holds out her arms, expecting to be refused, and happy when instead Aisha pulls her into a tight hug.

"You're crying," Maura observes quietly. "Why are you crying?"

Aisha gives her a squeeze before letting her go. She doesn't answer, but she doesn't completely disconnect either. She holds Maura's hand between both of her own, and looks at them, clearly struggling on the verge of speech.

And then, just when Maura thinks she will say something, Aisha shakes her head quickly. She leans forward and kisses Maura on the cheek.

"Happy Anniversary, my love," she whispers, although Jane is politely keeping Tycho busy by the fridge. "Here's to ten...to ten hundred more."

She leaves the kitchen then, and Maura lets her go. She stays behind with her wife and her son, and she hopes that Aisha will be strong enough to let Barry Frost show her the love that she has never believed she deserved.

…

…

"I heard you and Aisha in the kitchen this evening."

Jane is facing away, putting some of her clothes into her dresser, and she pauses for a second, hands freezing on the hem of a shirt.

"Oh yeah?" she says after a moment, trying for casual. She turns to look at Maura, and her face is unreadable. She will be impassive until she knows whether she is to be punished or praised.

"Come over here," Maura says, and she waits until Jane is under the covers beside her, real and warm, and her wife of ten years. They kiss, and Jane's hands come to rest on her lower back, against her skin.

"I love you," Maura says. "I wish you would have told me what was going on between the two of you."

Jane sighs deeply, looking up to the ceiling for a moment. "There was nothing anyone could do about it," she says finally. "And...it doesn't mean we don't care about each other. It's just…" she pauses, trying to think of the words. "One of those things."

"She's the best friend I've ever had," Maura says. "And you are the greatest love of my life"

Jane smiles absently. "Exactly. And you deserve both. We know that."

"Will it change?" Maura asks, putting her head down on Jane's shoulder. "Will you two change?"

Jane rubs her back slowly. "I think it already is," she says.

They lie there for a long moment, just holding onto each other, and Maura doesn't want to break the silence, especially not with the words she knows she has to say next.

"Jane…"

"Yeah?" Jane sounds concerned, she's already heard the tone in Maura's voice.

"I...have to tell you something."

"Okay," Jane says slowly. "Shoot."

"I got a call today, from a lawyer," Maura pauses, but Jane doesn't answer. "She told me that Garrett is petitioning for parole."

Jane's hand's twitch at the mention of his name, but she still does not respond.

"I should have told you the moment I got home," Maura says, speaking more quickly. "But I was late, and your mother and Aisha were here...and then I heard that conversation...and then Lise fell off that chair and the guests...I'm sorry," she finishes, a little desperately, because Jane has still not spoken.

"Jane?"

"Will you speak at the hearing?" she asks quietly.

"I...We have to discuss it," Maura says. "I _want_ to discuss it, darling. I'm sorry for keeping-"

But Jane rolls over to face her, and Maura sees she is smiling.

"You're a better person than I am," she says, kissing the side of Maura's mouth. "I was going to wait until tomorrow. I was probably even going to wait until after Isis' basketball game."

Maura blinks at her. "What?"

"My lawyer called today too," she says, sighing again. "This afternoon. I assume he said the same thing yours did. We can speak if we want, we don't have to, blah blah."

Maura feels relief relax her muscles. "Oh," she says, and then as more understanding washes over her. "Oh, Jane."

"He has the shittiest timing," Jane says, pulling Maura closer. "The shittiest aim, and the shittiest timing."

Maura hugs back. "Do you want to speak?"

Jane makes a movement that feels like a shrug. "At first I was like, that rat bastard is going to look in my face and listen while I tell the parole board everything. He's going to be begging to go back inside when I'm done."

Jane's muscles tighten as she speaks, and Maura feels dual waves of excitement and affection for the woman in her arms.

"But then," Jane continues. "With the party, and watching Frost and Jesse play twister with the kids...I just...watching Lise smear cake all over Ty's face?" Jane laughs, and Maura understands what she means.

"I felt it too," she says softly. "How little he mattered."

Jane nods. "I want him kept the fuck away from us," she says. "But it doesn't matter what we decide about going. And it doesn't matter when we decide it. He doesn't matter at all." Jane looks at her. "He's nothing more than the shitty thing that gave me you, Mo."

Maura closes her eyes, smiling into Jane's kiss. "Don't swear," she murmurs.

And Jane growls playfully, reaching to turn out the light.


End file.
